


Avengers High

by De_Marvel_Bunny



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Basketball, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Kid Avengers, Kid Tony Stark, Kidnapping, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, One Big Happy Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sort Of, Team Fluff, Time Travel, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17336678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/De_Marvel_Bunny/pseuds/De_Marvel_Bunny
Summary: A snap. The silence that followed. The few terrifying but hopeful moments that nothing would happen. A universe holding its breath.Somewhere in that universe, far away from home, there was a seemingly unimportant boy. A kid, even."Mr. Stark, I don't wanna go..."No one knew he would be their saving.or, the snap happened, Thanos is a jackass and the Avengers go to high school- being teenagers to complete the package. Peter seems to be the only one who knows that something's wrong. And apparently, it's up to him to fix it. Only mildly inspired by Once Upon a Time.--A Stony fanfiction. Means BoyxBoy. Don't like, please don't read.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks so much for checking this out! I'm writing this story on Wattpad, but decided to post it here, too. 
> 
> I'm not English, so please correct me if you spot any errors.
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*  
> I do not own Marvel and its characters. The idea is mine, the characters are theirs.

_*Snap*_

Thanos' snap echoed around the universe, a universe that seemed to hold their breath.

Thor watched as the infinity gauntlet crumbled, but the stones stayed intact.

"What have you done?" He asked the Titan. Said Titan had a distant look in his eyes, and for a moment, Thor thought it hadn't worked.

Then everything turned black.

\--

* _Beep, beep, beep_ *

Peter groaned and rolled over in his bed.  _Just five more minutes..._

He shot upright in his bed. Something wasn't right...

Wait. A bed? An alarm?

He looked around his room. It was an average room, but kingsized for him, as his own room was way smaller. But he hadn't been in a room when he passed out, right? Suddenly, he remembered. He remembered the horrible feeling, starting in his stomach and soon spreading out until is the feeling the tips of his fingertips.

_"Mr. Stark, I-I don't feel so good..." He stuttered as he looked down at his hands, the feeling of him falling apart, being pulled away by forces unknown to humanity getting stronger._

_"You're alright," He heard Mr. Stark say, his voice tight. He looked up at his mentor, he looked okay. Then why did he feel like he was crumbling to dust?_

_"I-I don't know what's happening..." he said, confused as he saw that everyone was watching, seemingly fine. But it hurt... Why did it hurt so much?_

_His legs started to feel weak as he stumbled over to his hero, collapsing in his arms as tears streamed down his face. Mr. Stark's strong and familiar arms caught him before he could slip away. They held onto him just as tight as Peter himself clung to him._

_"Mr. Stark, please. I don't know what's happening- I don't know what's going on..." he cried, the feeling of his body falling apart, his life being pulled out of the universe getting stronger by the second. He was going to die._

_"I don't wanna go. Please, Mr. Stark, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna go-" He pleaded, his voice tight as he gripped onto the only thing that felt solid still, the feeling of his body fading away increasing._

_"Please, sir. I don't wanna go, I don't wanna-"_

_His legs gave away, and Tony's own, shaking legs weren't able to keep them both up as they collapsed on the ground._

_Peter looked up at his hero, seeing nothing but fear in the older man's eyes as his strong arms didn't let go, as if he was trying to keep him together, trying to stop him from falling apart._

_But Peter knew that wasn't going to work. He was going to die, and they both knew it. There was a pain in Mr. Stark's eyes, a crushing pain that ran deep. Peter had never before seen so much emotion in the brown eyes of his hero._

_'And if you died, I feel like that's on me'_

_Mr. Stark's voice echoed in his head. He knew that if he died now, it would crush the man. The man who had everything, and nothing._

_"I'm sorry," he mumbled before the universe went out._

_\--_

Peter didn't know he was crying until he felt big, hot tears fall on his bare feet. He couldn't remember standing up, but that wasn't what he thought about as he wrapped his arms around himself, as if wanting to feel the hold Mr. Stark had on him once again, not wanting that feeling to fade. He was somewhat comforted by the feeling of his solid limbs, but he missed Mr. Stark's strong arms.

"Peter, honey," a voice called from downstairs. "Turn that piece of junk off of I  _will_  throw it out the window!"

Peter froze.  _May?_

He turned around, coming face to face with himself in the mirror. What surprised him even more, was to see his 15-year-old self.

He quickly wiped his face, about to answer to his aunt that he would really like that offer when he saw his alarm clock.

"Ah,  _heck_  to the no!" He yelled, turning off his Iron Man alarm, which had been blaring this whole time. He was  _so_ keeping this.

May laughed from down the stairs.

"Alright, you coming down for breakfast? I made pancakes!"

Peter nodded, face palming himself when he realized she couldn't see him, so he quickly yelled a high-pitched "Yeah, coming!" to his aunt down the stairs. Man, he hated his 15-year-old voice.

He quickly got dressed in clothes that seemed way more expensive than his usual clothes (and way cooler, might I add), and headed down the stairs. He had an obviously new backpack, one he was very grateful for. It was a whole lot bigger than the one he'd had before... well, whatever this was.

His heart made a quick leap of joy when he saw his aunt in the kitchen, a few burned pancakes on a plate on the kitchen counter. He decided to be as non-suspicious as possible, so he groaned as he dropped his backpack next to his seat at the kitchen island.

"Burned pancakes for breakfast. Great," he mumbled, rolling his eyes. But his voice had no heat in it, and May chuckled from her spot in the kitchen.

"Now, don't you complain, boy," she said in a fake stern voice. "Don't think I didn't bust you burning your eggs,"

Peter's mouth fell open, shocked.

"May, I was 6!" He exclaimed. May snickered. "Whatever," Peter said, deciding to drop the subject. May put the last not completely burned pancakes on a plate, walking over to where Peter was sitting, a hungry look in his eyes.

"All done," May said, picking a seat next to her cousin.

"Good," Peter said, licking his lips. "I'm starving. I'm starving so bad, I could even eat  _your_  pancakes,"

May turned to him, giving him an offended look. She then huffed, picking Peter's plate from right under his nose. Peter gave an on his turn offended "hey!" as he tried to get his plate back. But May was a lot taller than him, and she simply held it out of his reach while eating her own pancakes.

Let's just say Peter had learned a valuable lesson that day.

\--

Peter biked to school on his pretty dope mountain bike, following the obvious signs and the occasional glimpse of the large building to make it to his school. When he arrived, he parked his bike, taking out his keys before entering the big high school.

He entered together with a sea of other students. Sadly, he wasn't at all that big. So he was basically being carried over to who-knows-where, as he couldn't see a single thing other than teenage bodies.

Peter stumbled through the crowd, feeling people push him around. He didn't have a single clue as to where he was at the moment, he just wanted to get out of the sea of teenagers.

His breathing started to pick up as panic began to rise up in his chest. He pushed past everyone, eyes wide as he tried to get away. He was starting to panic, causing him to trip over his own feet and fall. To his surprise, he didn't hit the ground. Instead, he fell against a strong chest. Shit, this was awkward. He looked up to see two blue eyes looking down at him. He was certain he'd seen those eyes before, he just had no idea where...

 _Come on, Parker,_ he thought to himself.  _Eyes as blue as these are hard to forget._ _.._

"Are you okay?"

The question tore Peter from his thoughts. He quickly took a step back, looking at the ground and clearing his throat.

"Eh, yeah- yeah m'fine," he said, cringing slightly at his own subtleness. The blue-eyed boy in front of him just shot him a concerned look.

"You sure? You seemed a little shaken,"

Peter just shook his head, picking up his backpack from where it had fallen on the ground.

"Just a little overwhelmed is all," he said, leaning from one foot to another. The blonde chuckled.

"Yeah, I know what that's like. That's the main reason I come early every day,"

Peter just nodded, looking around awkwardly. The crowd of teenagers was behind them, most people already going to class, others just hanging around their lockers.

"I'm sorry," the blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy suddenly said. "I haven't even introduced myself, my name is Steve, Steve Rogers."

Peter dropped his bag.

"S-Steve?" He whispered breathlessly.

The boy, Steve, gave him a strange look.

"Yes, Steve. Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, obviously concerned.

Peter just stared at him with open mouth. Captain America was standing in front of him, blue bomber jack and a backpack loosely hanging from his broad shoulder.

And he was a  _teenager_.


	2. Chapter 2

"Kid, is something wrong?" Steve asked again, serious worry taking over as he eyed the shocked boy. "You look like you've seen a ghost,"

"No," a different voice interrupted. "He looks like a ghost himself,"

A dark-haired boy came into view, a big, goofy smile on his face. He wrapped a muscular arm around his friend's broad shoulders. He too looked familiar to Peter, but again he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"Be nice, Clint," teenage-Steve said. "Excuse my friend, here. Can we help you with anything?"

Clint. Made sense, Peter thought. He certainly looked like Hawkeye.

"Err, it- it's my first day..." Peter murmured, recovering his backpack from the ground.

Clint's mouth fell open.

"You're a new kid?" He asked with wide eyes.

"Well, I mean y-yeah...?" Peter stuttered, blushing under the intense stare.

"No way!" Clint exclaimed. "We haven't had a new kid in ages!"

Peter just shuffled awkwardly with his feet, not knowing what to say next. Luckily Steve came to his rescue.

"Clint, now's not the time," he said, shooting his friend a look. Clint mumbled something under his breath but stopped staring. Steve smiled kindly at the younger boy in front of him. "What's your name?"

"Eh, Peter. Peter Parker,"

"Nice to meet you, Peter. Need help getting your stuff?"

Peter nodded. Steve kindly put an arm around his shoulders and guided him away from the busyness in the hall.

Peter looked around, amazed by the size of the building. It was certainly bigger than his normal school. The ceiling was higher, the walls further apart and everything was a whole lot fancier.

"...come on!" Peter heard Clint whine to Steve. He never changed. "You gotta be there! I mean, as the Captain..."

"Captain?" Peter blurted out without thinking. Steve flushed a bright red and scratched his neck in a way Peter was sure would make both boys and girls fall in love with him right there.

"Yeah, well... I'm sorta, kind of-"

"He's the Captain of the football team." Clint finished for him, clearly annoyed with the interruption.

"As I was saying," he continued dramatically. "It's the first practice of the season. You can't bail on that! I mean, everyone's coming! I'm pretty sure even the tall, evil one's coming."

"Clint, Tom isn't evil," Steve replied and judging by the way he said it Peter assumed it wasn't the first time he'd had to point it out. "And besides, you're only there for the cheerleaders."

Now it was Clint's turn to blush.

"Not true," he muttered. "Besides, you're the one always staring at the basketball team!"

"Am not!" Steve argued.

"Are too!" Clint shot back.

"Shut up!" A girl entered the conversation in the same tone the boys had used. Peter liked her already. "Who's that?" She turned to Peter. "Who are you?"

"This is Peter, he's a new kid," Steve said, hitting Peter friendly on the shoulder. The girl gave him a look that seemed to be in between curiousness and suspiciousness. But she smiled kindly and held out a hand for him to shake.

"Natasha Romanoff, friends call me Nat," she told him. Peter nodded numbly, shaking her hand. The Avengers were slowly piling up as a high school friend group... Could Mr. Stark be here too? He pushed that thought down quickly. He'd only met three Avengers so far, no need to get false hopes. But still... The hope his mentor could be here, safe and sound... It didn't let go of him.

The four of them arrived at the principal's office, one that looked a lot like a bigger version of the one in Peter's school.

Peter had to blink a couple times when he realized that this was now his school. Wow, that was kinda weird...

"Excuse me, sir?" Steve asked as they arrived at the principal's office. Peter looked inside the seemingly empty office. He was about to point out it was empty when a man suddenly popped up around a corner. Peter felt a stab of disappointment when he saw his own principal. He didn't really know who he'd expected to see, and maybe he should be happy with seeing a familiar face, but he was never really that big of a fan of his principal.

The principal looked shocked too when he said he was a new kid. But he didn't comment on it and got his stuff. Peter thanked him and together the four of them walked back. But when Peter saw his schedule, he came to an abrupt halt.

"Wait, what?"

"What, what?" Clint replied, coming to a halt as well.

"What, what, what?" Nat joined in.

"What, what, what..." Steve began, counting in his head before giving up. "Whatever. What is it?"

Peter shook his head.

"Nothing, just... It's a lot different than what I'm used to."

"Right," Steve said slowly, realization dawning on him. "I know, this school works a bit different. No one can explain our school system, really."

"You're basically put in a different classroom every 45 minutes to hear about a subject you really don't care about with a bunch of people you really don't care about." Clint helped out.

"Thank you, Clint." Steve patted his friend on the shoulder, who winked at Peter. "Anyway, you're new and school's already started, so I'm guessing you'll just be put in a class randomly, and your grades will show you what class is best for you. It's not really a very good system, but they just put you in a class that follows the most subjects you're good at. Sometimes that means you have to study very hard for things you're really bad at, which is why it's actually a very crappy system... But! You don't have to meet new people." He finished with a smile, seemingly happy about the last part.

"So, age doesn't matter?" Peter inquired. Nat shook her head.

"No, as long as you can handle the biggest amount of classes you can even be years younger than most people in your class. We have a kid in our class who's about as old as you, he's just really smart so he can keep up. I'm guessing you will, too."

"Why do you think that?" Peter wondered.

"Well, how old are you, 15?" At Peter's confirmation, she continued. "You're young, most kids in this town only come here at around 16. I know," she stopped Peter when he opened his mouth. "We have a weird town. Anyway, if you're here already, then that means you must have some brains." She winked at him knowingly, and Peter just concluded she was really cool.

"Well, anyway," Steve spoke up again as he glanced at the clock. "Lessons are about to start, and I see you're in our class. I suggest we get going,"

And with that, the small group of teenage heroes was on their way to an eventful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I made this clear enough. I had an idea of a non-existent school system in mind because I'm not from America and our school system is a heck of a lot different.
> 
> Please leave your thoughts and feedback, comments always make my day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets Mr. Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy to hear people are enjoying this! A quick update for the ones waiting for it ;)

To Peter's surprise, they managed to make it to class in time. He was invited to sit next to Clint, while Natasha sat next to a redhead and Steve next to who Peter assumed to be Bucky, his famous best friend and former Winter Soldier. Peter recognized him immediately because of his missing arm and long hair. He had a bit of a distant and dark look, but Peter had seen a sparkle light up in his eyes when he'd seen Steve.

Peter was just wondering who the redheaded girl was when someone stormed in. It was a boy who, if Peter had to guess, had to be Rhodes. He cheered triumphantly as he went to his seat, high-fiving another kid whilst doing so. Once on his seat, Peter noticed him glance at the clock and then at the door.

Peter's questions as to why the kid was doing that, were quickly answered as a pair of running feet were heard in the hallway. Not much later a small, brunet boy appeared in the doorway, coming to an abrupt stop once he'd entered, waiting unmoving.

When the bell rang just seconds later, the boy cheered, most of the class joining in. The short brunette crossed the length of the room, moonwalking to his seat while high-fiving the kids he passed.

Peter couldn't help but watch with an open mouth. He'd never seen this in his school before, everyone was either late or on time, and if they just barely made it in they would just go straight to the nearest empty seat.

"Well done, Mr. Stark," the teacher at the front laughed. The boy bowed dramatically.

"A streak of coming on time for 10 months: achieved,"

"Very well," the teacher clapped in her hands, looking at him over her red glasses that were perched on her nose. "I assume that includes last year?"

"Of course," the boy winked. "I'm going for 12. Although, more would be great. Depends on whether I have to bike here, or someone," he looked accusingly at the kid who'd entered before him, "remembers to set an alarm."

The boy raised his hands to defend himself.

"Don't look at me! Should've told me sooner that your bike broke down. Again."

The brunette rolled his eyes, looking ready to shoot something back when the teacher cut in.

"If it's alright with you two gentlemen, I'd like to start now. Take a seat, Anthony."

The boy stuck his tongue out to his friend but sat down. The teacher started her lesson, but Peter didn't hear it. His attention was on the brunette, who was currently fully focused on the board where Miss... Something (Peter couldn't remember her name) was writing stuff Peter couldn't care less about.

His mind was racing a hundred miles per second, but no clear thought could form. It felt like he'd just said goodbye to his mentor, covered in blood and pain in his eyes as Peter disappeared. But here he was; safe, clean, happy, and clearly not aware of Peter's million questions.

"...a new student. Peter Parker?" Peter was drawn back to the teacher at the front of the class, her eyes searching for him through the few rows of people. He hesitantly raised his hand.

"Ah, there you are. Everyone, this is your new classmate, Peter Parker."

Peter's cheeks flushed as he felt all eyes turn to him.

"Hey, everyone," he muttered.

"Peter, would you like to tell us something about yourself?"

_No_

"Yes, well... um," Peter stammered as he stood up. "Well, my name's Peter, Peter Parker. I just moved her with my aunt a week ago,"

 _Wait, what?_  Peter suddenly thought. _How do I know that?_

"And um, I'm 15... And that's kind of it..."

"Very well," the teacher took over again as Peter quickly sat back down, ducking his head to avoid any eye contact.

"Alright, let's get started. I suggest we dive right into it, and if you don't understand, Peter, you can just ask after I've explained everything and I'll help you."

Peter nodded, and quickly got out a notebook when he saw everyone else do so. He pulled out his biology book and searched for a pen. It should be right...

Oh shit.

Peter had the urge to hit his head on the table. May had listed everything he might need in school, but he'd just kind of laughed it off, telling her he wasn't a kid anymore. (He was, but he wasn't going to admit that to aunt May, of course). Now he wished he had listened, because then he wouldn't be in this awkward situation where he'd actually forgotten a pen on his very first school day.

"Clint," he whisper-called to the archer next to him.

"Yeah?" Clint replied just as soft.

"I forgot my pen,"

"What?"

"I forgot my pen! Do you have one for me?" Peter repeated, a little louder than last time. Clint shook his head apologetically.

"Sorry, bud. I only have the one,"

_Shit_

"Hey, new kid," Peter turned his head to the other side, just in time to see a pencil flying through the air towards him. He reached out to grab it, panicking slightly because he wasn't used to no warnings by his Spidey-Senses. He almost dropped it, but managed to catch it awkwardly and save himself the embarrassment of having to pick it up.

He looked over to who threw it, and saw  _Mr. Stark_  winking at him from across the room. Peter didn't have time to reply as the boy turned back to his notes and the teacher continued.

Peter tried his best to pay attention, but his mind was swimming. He couldn't make sense of what was happening, and things were slowly getting weirder and weirder.

When the bell rang, sending them all to the next class, he quickly rushed to catch up with his teenage mentor, who was laughing (Peter felt guilty when he realized he'd never seen Mr. Stark genuinely laugh) with his friends.

"Um, sorry," Peter mumbled, barely able to hear himself over his pounding heart. Tony turned around, looking at him with interest. "You, um I- I kinda have your pencil still. Would you..."

He held out the pencil for the other boy to take, when he saw something appear in the teenager's eyes. Was that... Fear?

Before Peter could really see what it was, the look was gone and the young Stark was smiling at him again.

"That's alright, you can keep it," he said, clapping Peter on the shoulder. He winked at him once more before walking off with his friends, leaving Peter to stare at the pencil in awe.

_Thanks, Mr. Stark_

Peter caught up with Clint, Steve and Nat, skipping to his next class with a grin on his face and a warm feeling in his stomach. This could just turn out to be a very good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment your thoughts down below


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony meet...
> 
> Instant chemistry?
> 
> Also, Steve has the biggest friend group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to read all of your comments, they really make my day and inspire me to write more! Don't stop commenting, I love to hear what you think!
> 
> Constructive criticism is also welcome, I don't have a Beta, so there could be a few mistakes. Keep in mind; writer is not English. Mistakes are all mine...
> 
> Okay quick side note- I really wasn't planning on posting this already. I'm almost out of pre-written chapter already, but I'm just very excited for this fic and all of your comments really made me want to post this now already. However, these quick updates won't last as school is still going for me and I really need to work hard this year, so I won't have much time to write. Luckily for all of us, I'm really hyped about this idea, so I'll try to write whenever I can!
> 
> Alright, now enjoy!

They were three lessons in, and Peter found that all things considered, he was doing pretty well.

His last class before lunch was history, and he couldn't help himself from snickering at the irony of Steve looking absolutely hanging on the teacher's lips while he talked about the first world war.

Peter liked the guy. I mean, sure, he was basically creating a hurricane around him with his wild hand gestures, and Peter could clearly smell his bad breath even without heightened senses. But this man actually managed to make Peter interested in what he had to say.

Nonetheless, Peter was happy when the bell rang and their lunch hour began. He quickly packed his stuff and walked out after Steve. Everyone made a beeline for the cafeteria, some people even pushing past others to get the best table.

That is until everyone just stopped.

Peter knew from passing it earlier on in the day that a message board hung there, just outside the cafeteria. Apparently, a new notification had been applied to the board, and it seemed to draw some attention. Peter jumped up and down on his spot to try and see over the heads of the other students. Of course, to no avail. Luckily, most people at the front seemed to be done and moved away, so Peter could get a closer look and see what all the commotion was about.

"We're getting art again?" Steve read aloud, sounding both confused and excited. "I thought they'd scratched that,"

"Apparently they found a substitute for Mr. Ego," Nat shrugged.

"Mr. Ego?" Peter questioned.

"Our last art teacher. He died."

"Oh shit."

"Yep."

Conversation over.

"Well I don't know about you guys, but I'm excited," Steve said happily as the small group continued their walk to the cafeteria. He dug in his backpack while walking, searching for his lunch money.

"Yeah, but that's because you're good at it," the redheaded girl, who Peter learned was named Wanda, said, a bit of envy in her voice.

Steve was about to comment on that as he finally got his wallet out of his bag, when he walked into someone, dropping his stuff in the process.

"Oh, I'm-"

"Sorry,"

Steve looked up at who he'd run into, seeing Tony's brown eyes look back at him.

"No I'm sorry," Steve tried again. "I didn't look where I was going-"

"No, no that's alright," Tony was quick to cut him off as he went to pick up Steve's fallen lunch money from the ground. Unfortunately for him, Steve had the exact same thought and Tony froze when their hands made contact. Tony looked up into Steve's ocean blue eyes, his own wide and slightly shocked. He quickly recomposed himself and stood up, handing Steve his wallet.

"Anyway," he quickly changed the topic. "You got first practice today, too?"

Steve was confused for a moment as to what he meant, but quickly realized he was talking about sports.

"Uh, y-yeah," he blushed. Why was he blushing? Stop that!

"Actually," Clint cut in, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Stevie-boy here is not sure if he's gonna go or not."

Steve blushed even harder when Tony looked at him questioningly.

"I- I just don't think I should. You know, with the head injury from the last game of last year..."

"I really think you should go," Tony told him. Steve looked up at him to see him looking back with a serious look on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know much about football, but I do know something about leading a team. And it's important to support that team."

He paused for a second as Steve let the words sink in.

"I mean," Tony continued, chuckling a bit. "If you're not on your team, why should anyone else be, right?"

With that, he waved goodbye and walked away, already chatting with his friends again.

"He's a leader of a team?" Peter asked when no one spoke up.

"Basketball team," was Steve's short reply as he still stared at where Tony had just been standing. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and smiled at them. "Who's ready for lunch?" Clint rolled his eyes.

"Thought you'd never ask,"

\--

So, apparently, Peter had befriended one of the largest friend groups he had ever seen. And he found that out during lunch.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Peter looked up to see a dark-haired woman standing behind Natasha, who smiled at her and told her to sit down. The girl smiled back and sat down before spotting Peter. Her smile widened.

"And who's this?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"That's Peter, a new kid in school," Natasha answered before Peter could. The girl didn't look the least bit shocked as she leaned over the table to shake his hand.

"Laura. I'm the mother of this little family,"

"That's true," Wanda confirmed. Laura smiled brightly, and Peter wasn't doubting that statement.

"So," she asked him. "What brings you to our humble town?"

Peter shrugged. He could of course tell them that a giant purple dude snapped his fingers and made him turn to dust, making even his mentor cry and then transport them to some sort of random high school where they were all teenagers- but that all didn't seem like a very good idea.

"Well, it seemed peaceful. Nice." He told them, and it didn't feel made up at all, as if that really was the reason he'd come here.

Laura nodded.

"It's pretty quiet here," she agreed. Peter was about to go back to eating his food, when they were interrupted again.

"Move your ass, this seat's mine."

Steve laughed, already knowing who it was and scooted over.

"Hello to you too, Sam."

Sam gave him a salute.

"Morning, Cap. You coming to practice after school?"

Steve nodded.

"Yeah, I think I am."

Nat raised her eyebrow with a cunning smile on her face.

"Really? What changed your mind?"

Steve turned a bright red as he ducked his head.

"I... Was simply shown why I should. That- that's all."

Natasha nodded and went back to her food, but the smile didn't leave her lips. She caught eyes with Peter and winked.

Not much later two more people arrived. And Peter immediately noticed they couldn't be more different. One had short, blond hair that looked to be cut by his own hand. He was tall and muscular, and had a smile as big as the universe.

The other boy, however, had long, dark hair that was neatly styled back. He had a slim figure and a smooth stride, but his head was bent over a phone and his face showed no trace of a smile, whatsoever.

Thor and Loki.

"Hello, my friends!" The blond boy, who Peter assumed was Thor, boomed. The whole table greeted them back, while the dark-haired boy didn't even look up.

"Who're you texting?" Nat asked as she tried to look on his screen. "Your boyfriend?"

The boy snarled at her before reluctantly sitting down.

As Peter had feared, it didn't take the Thor-like boy long to notice him. If possible, his smile grew and his eyes lit up once he noticed the silent boy across the table.

"Ah, I see we have a new companion joining our humble group of warriors." His accent addressed him.

Peter gave a small wave, already getting tired of having to introduce himself. Before he could, however, a smooth, British voice interrupted.

"That is Peter Parker, he's new."

All eyes turned to the boy on his phone, but he only briefly looked up to assess the new kid. "He's in my class," he shrugged. Peter thought he saw a bit of a smile on the other's lips before he went back to his phone.

"Well," the blonde smiled to interrupt the silence that had fallen over the table. "It is a pleasure to meet you, friend Parkerson. I am Chris, and this is my brother, Tom."

Peter nodded, not really knowing what to say. Silence fell over the table once more as everyone devoured their lunch.

The commotion returned when the sound of bodies slamming into each other was heard just behind Peter.

"Watch out, Lang!" An angry voice grumbled. The boy, Lang, muttered a quick apology while nursing his aching shoulder. The first boy rolled his eyes, grabbed the basketball he'd been chasing and ran off.

Lang was about to walk back when someone else came over.

"Hey, sorry, man." Tony said apologetically. "I don't know what his problem is,"

Lang nodded, a smile making its way across his face again.

"That's alright. Hey, aren't you the captain of the basketball team?" And then, before Tony could even formulate a proper sentence to answer that question, he continued. "I saw the game last year. It was really amazing! And it was so awesome how you made that last save, and- oh. I'm shaking your hand too long, aren't I?"

Tony nodded, face slightly pained as he tried to wriggle out of the other's grip. The Lang boy quickly let go, muttering apologies under his breath.

"Hey, you're Scott, right?" Tony asked to break the awkward silence that had followed the last action. The other nodded, seemingly amazed that Tony knew his name. Tony smiled, catching a basketball thrown his way.

"I'll see you around, Scott."

He clapped the starstruck boy on the back, before walking over to the other side of their table, to where Nat was seated.

"Hey Nat, you in on the science project with me and Bruce?"

Natasha nodded, giving him a genuine smile.

"Yeah, seems fun!"

"Alright, I'll see you then,"

He turned around and passed the ball to someone else before running off to join their definitely not legal game in the cafeteria. Scott sat down beside Peter and Peter had to do the introduction all over again. But by the time the whole group seemed complete, Peter was completely at ease with the group of friends, occasionally being included in a good conversation, and other times he just watched Tony and his team playing basketball and joking around.

Peter really liked this school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'If you're not on your team, why should anyone else be?' is a quote by RDJ himself. I just found it beautiful and fitting to use here.
> 
> Now, I'm ashamed to say that I am not a comic nerd- in fact, I don't have any Marvel comics... Which is why I don't know much about the characters besides what's shown in the movies (and a little bit from other fanfictions, no shame). So I'm sorry if some characters are not portrayed exactly right.
> 
> First practice coming up in the next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First practice. Tony's cool. Steve is confused. Clint knows what's up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates after this chapter might take a while longer, but I'm trying really hard to write as much as I can!
> 
> Thanks for the comments I've received on the previous chapters, they really inspire me to write!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter ;)

The rest of the day flew by and soon the last bell rang, signaling the end of their day. As Peter packed his stuff he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Clint standing there.

"Hey, you coming to training?"

Peter flushed.

"I- um, I'm not really good at sports..." he mumbled apologetically and a bit embarrassed. Clint laughed friendly.

"No, not to train!" He said matter-of-factly. Peter had the nerve to roll his eyes.

"Oh, of course. How stupid of me!" He exclaimed sarcastically. It only made Clint laugh harder.

"Sorry," he spoke again once his laughter had died down. "I didn't phrase that right. I meant, do you want to go watch the first training for the football and basketball teams of this year? It's always fun to watch them work their asses off."

Peter thought about it for a second. May would wanna know all about his first day in school. But he also happened to know she wouldn't be home until later in the evening with her working her first shift in the hospital. Homework, he could manage, especially now that he couldn't patrol anymore. So he nodded.

"Sure, seems fun."

Clint grinned at him.

"Good,"

\--

Peter set down his bag as he took a seat next to Clint on the stand by the football field. He couldn't help his mouth from falling open as he looked around. The football field looked new and well-managed, the lines clear on the grass. Peter didn't really know how football worked, let alone how to play it, but he had to admit that it looked  _magnificent._

Clint saw him staring and grinned from ear to ear.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed contently, looking over the ginormous terrain with different sports fields, including a basketball field, a stadium for athletes and even something that looked to be an archery field. "Our school's really excited when it comes to sport. The whole town, in fact. So I hope you like working out because that's going to be the thing you wake up with in the morning and take with you to bed. Seriously," he added when he saw Peter pulling a questioning face. "You're literally going to  _dream_  the sport..."

Peter swallowed but chose to focus on the field instead of thinking of Clint's words as the football team jogged onto the grass.

Peter watched them as they started their warming-up by running around the outer lines of the field, beginning the long trek with surprisingly bright faces. It didn't take long until the basketball exited the school, too.

They were a lot less organized as they jogged out as a group, talking and laughing amongst themselves. But no matter how un-organized they looked, they stuck together as they too started to run around their field. Peter recognized Mr. Stark- um,  _Tony_  at the front, talking to one of his team members. They weren't trying to race, unlike certain members of the football team- instead choosing to take a slow and comfortable pace, purely for warming up the muscles.

A good ten minutes later they stopped to start their stretching, and then Tony stepped forward to address his team.

"Alright," his voice echoed over the mostly silent area. "Mr. Quill couldn't make it today, something about his stick dying... I don't know. Very sad and all, but that won't stop us, of course. We haven't decided this year's team captain yet-"

"So what are you doing now, then?" A different voice cut in, and Peter could just  _feel_  Tony rolling his eyes. The boy interrupting Tony stepped closer to the basketball team as he was from the football team, judging by his outfit. He had a smug look on his face as he crossed his arms across his chest, looking actually quite intimidating. But Tony didn't let that affect him as he answered.

"I'm trying to-" He started calmly, but the boy interrupted again.

"To do... What, exactly?" He mocked. "Lead the team to victory?"

"Well, it seemed to work out quite well last year," Tony replied coolly. Then, without letting the boy reply, he yelled out to the group at the football field. "Ey, Rogers!" Steve startled, quickly turning around to look at whoever had called his name.

"Uh, yeah?" He called back, a bit hesitantly. Tony pointed a thumb towards the stray football player.

"Keep your boys with you, will ya?"

Without waiting for an answer, Tony turned around to walk away. But the other boy was having none of it.

"What do you know about working anyway, Stark?" He sneered, pushing Tony's back, who stumbled forward but managed to stay upright. "Bet you got raised with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to raise a single finger."

Peter bit his lip, balling his fists as he watched the scene unfold. To his surprise, Tony just took a deep breath and kept walking. Peter almost allowed himself to breathe, stopping himself when he saw the much bigger kid tense up, looking ready to throw a punch.

Tony was fast. Really fast.

He turned around, dodging the fist and grabbing the boy's collar, the other hand keeping his arms away. They were close together now, and Peter couldn't catch what Tony was saying without his super hearing. But whatever it was, it seemed to shock the other enough to keep him in place.

Tony pulled back, straightening the other's shirt and smiling a smile, a smile Peter had seen before. It wasn't genuine, never reaching his eyes and threatening in its own way.

"Don't hurt yourself, big boy."

With that, he walked off towards his team, not sparing the bigger boy another glance. By the time Steve had jogged over to give his teammate a lecture, Tony was already back to leading his little team. Steve shook his head and smile fondly at the younger boy, who seemed to be enjoying himself as he fooled around with his team.

"Hey, Capt'n!" Bucky yelled from where he stood to wait on the field. "You 'bout done there?"

Steve's cheeks turned a soft shade of red as he waved at his friend, telling him he was on his way. One last glance towards the other team and Steve was jogging back towards his own, missing how Tony looked at back him, a slightly confused but mostly fond look on his face as he watched Steve go back to being Captain Rogers. He chuckled slightly, shaking his head before locking the thought away until basketball was all he could focus on.

Not everyone had missed the looks, however. High up from the stands, like a hawk, Clint's eyes were watching it all. A knowing smirk made its way across his face.

_Oh, they're so screwed_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some unexpected, but not unwelcome, turn of events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a while...
> 
> Sorry for the wait, a bit of a longer chapter to (hopefully) make up for it.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Unfortunately, 'first practice' was a huge disappointment for everyone, as before long everyone was running off the field and the stands, running for cover as rain poured from the heavens. 

"Aw, man!" Whined a soaked Clint from where he stood, dripping in the hallways. "First practice is always funny to watch, you know, because of the new kids who think they can keep up. And now that's all ruined!" He threw up his arms dramatically. At that moment, a group of soaked cheerleaders ran past them, laughing as their wet hair fell in front of their face.

"Okay, maybe not  _completely_  ruined..." Clint corrected himself as he watched after the girls.

"Wait, was that Nat?" Peter questioned, noticing the redhead among the group. Clint shook his head as if shaking himself out of his trance.

"Uh, yeah," he shrugged. "She's one of the best, actually. She wanted me to join but, you know, they're all  _girls._ "

"I can imagine that's  _exactly_ why she asked you," a voice laughed behind them. Peter whipped around to see a soaked Tony in his basketball clothes, smirking as he dried his messy hair with a towel. Clint rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Tony just chuckled and leaned against a nearby wall as his brown eyes flickered to Peter. His smirk turned into a smile.

"Hey," he greeted. Peter managed a lame 'hey' back, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. Tony didn't seem to care, however, as his smile only seemed to grow. "Parker, right?" Peter nodded.

"P- Peter, sir," Peter stammered. He quickly realized what he'd said, his cheeks flushing impossibly redder. Tony just barked out a laugh.

"Drop the formalities, kid. You can just call me Tony. Seems easier, don't you think?" He winked at him, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Gotta say," Rhodey walked in, smirking slightly as he mimicked Tony's pose and leaned against a wall. "The wet dog look suits you," Tony huffed and threw the towel in his face, which Rhodes (sadly) managed to catch mid-air. Tony pouted at his friend's reflexes. Suddenly, his face lit up. Rhodes' fell. "Oh no, I know that look,"

Tony opened up his arms with a sweet grin. Rhodey straightened up, backing away. Tony pulled the most innocent face he could manage as he looked at his friend.

"Hug?" He asked sweetly, and, Peter had to admit, adorably.

"No, no," Rhodey starts, backing away faster as Tony walks towards him with outstretched arms.

"Please?"

Oh no, the puppy-dog-eyes.

"No, not the eyes, please!" Rhodey begs, slowly backing up against a wall. Eventually, he sighs, dropping his head and gesturing with his hands. "Fine, come here," Tony beams, slowly wrapping his arms around his friend, his head under the darker boy's chin the way he always does when they hug. Rhodey feels the cold water seep through his clothes, but hugs his friend back, nonetheless. "But only because you're too freaking adorable,"

Once Tony was satisfied his friend got what he seemingly deserved, he let go and bounced away. Silence fell in the hallway.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Clint broke it, startling Peter slightly. Rhodey just shook his head, chuckling slightly as he tugged at his now wet clothes.

"He's crazy, but awfully adorable once you get to know him," he sighed. "He's got too much in his head, so when he finally lets go, you gotta let 'im." He looked back down at his soaked shirt. "Unfortunately, that's not always most ideal for everyone,"

Peter looked stunned. What the hell had he gotten into? What universe was this?

 _Wait,_  he suddenly thought.  _What if I'm actually in an alternate universe? Maybe the one Thanos created by snapping his fingers?_

"Well, I'm gonna go change," Rhodey suddenly piped up. "I'd wait for the rain to stop before going home if I were you," he advised the two.

"Can't get much wetter than this," Clint mumbled as he turned his shoe upside-down, splashing the pool of water out of his shoe onto the floor.

"I'm Rhodey, by the way," Rhodes addressed Peter. "I realized I hadn't introduced myself," Peter took the outstretched hand. 

"Peter," he introduced himself to the taller boy. The teenage-colonel looked him over, seemingly assessing him. When he seemed satisfied, he stepped back and smiled.

"Tony seems to like you," he deadpanned. Peter blinked.

"He-he does?"

"Yeah. He doesn't normally talk to people he doesn't trust. And he doesn't trust easily,"

Peter heard the silent warning in his words.  _'Don't make him regret that trust'_. Peter could clearly see how protective the older boy seemed of his mentor, or rather, ex-mentor.

Muffled shouting interrupted their conversation and soon a door of one of the dressing rooms opened, revealing Sam with what seemed to be a shirt in his hands and Tony storming out after him.

"Come on, Wilson. Give it back," the latter pleaded, hugging himself in a vain attempt to keep warm in his wet clothes. "It's really cold..."

But Wilson, Peter knew him as Sam, simply smirked, keeping the shirt high up in the air, out of Tony's reach. Tony decided to keep just a shred of dignity by not jumping up to try and snatch it out of the dark boy's hand. When Tony noticed that Sam wasn't going to give his shirt back, he turned to a way too smug-looking Rhodey.

"Rhodey, Honey-Bear, Platypus, love of my life," Rhodey rolled his eyes, while Peter struggled to contain a snicker.  _He never changes..._  "Please tell your friend to give me back my shirt,"

"Rhodes' friend?" Sam looked fake-hurt, a hand over his heart. "So,  _we're_  not friends?" Tony looked at him, a bit shocked.

"Um, well- I mean..." he stuttered, and Peter had to contain a smile at how much the boy acted like Peter himself. It seemed he wasn't always so confident, after all. "I-I don't... Know?" he finished, scratching his neck as a blush colored his cheeks. He cleared his throat, looking back up at a bit less smug Sam once the blush had gone. "Tell you what. You give me back my shirt, and we'll hang out. You know, as friends,"

 _Ever the businessman_. Peter snickered to himself.

Sam seemed to think this offer over in his head before he nodded and threw the smaller boy his shirt back. 

"Deal," he grinned. Tony couldn't help but smile back, and he absolutely beamed as he went back into the room he'd come out of to change.

Rhodey and Sam grinned at each other as they fist-bumped. Peter realized they must have had something like this in mind-- maybe Sam had been trying to become friends with Tony for a while.

"Hey, guys,"

Peter looked up to see Nat coming down a set of stairs, seemingly changed into dry clothes, her short hair tied up in a bun on her head. She got a chorus of greetings in response while Peter just waved. He saw her looking around, seemingly searching for someone.

"Where's Tony?" She asked, descending the last few steps. Sam nodded his head towards the door which Tony had disappeared through.

"He's changing,"

Natasha nodded and looked back at the people standing in the hall. Her eyes rested on their wet clothes.

"Maybe you should, too," she gestured towards Peter, Clint, and Rhodey, who were slightly shaking in their soaked clothes. Clint and Rhodey agreed easily, walking away, probably getting their gym clothes. Sam stayed as he'd already changed. Which left Peter standing, still dripping as his wet clothes made him shiver slightly. But despite that, his face heated up.

"I- I don't have an extra pair of clothes..." he muttered softly, just as the door swung open and Tony stepped out, changed into dry jeans and the white shirt Sam had stolen before, worn sneakers and a jacket over a zip-up sweater finishing the look.

"I got an extra pair of gym clothes if you like?" He offered, surprising Peter and, seemingly, himself. "You're only slightly taller, so..." He trailed off, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. Peter noticed that he was indeed a bit taller. He allowed himself a small moment to be proud of that accomplishment before he turned back to the matter at hand. 

He was about to reject the offer politely, but he was really cold, so he nodded. Tony slipped back into the dressing room, reappearing moments later with a sports shirt and pants. He awkwardly handed them to Peter and pointed his thumb towards the dressing room.

"You can go change in there, there's only the basketball team in there at the moment."

Peter nodded, quickly slipping into the room to change. He finished quickly, not entirely comfortable with changing with people he didn't know. Luckily no one acknowledged him and before long he slipped back out again, finally warm and dry. 

"...hours," He caught the last word of Nat's sentence as she looked at something on her phone.

"Hours?!" Tony exclaimed. "I don't have  _hours_  to wait for the rain to stop, I have projects to finish at home!"

"Yeah, well I'm very sorry, Tony, but I can't do anything about that," Natasha answered dryly. Tony shot her a look that, rather impressively, looked to be a mix of annoyance and apologetic.

"So, what are we going to do now?" Sam asked. Tony's face lit up.

"We can play games! Like-"

"Don't even  _mention_  basketball right now," Sam interrupted. Tony grumbled something under his breath but stayed silent.

"It's actually not such a bad idea," Natasha shrugged. "They have board games in the lounge room,"

"We're going to the lounge room?" Clint's voice sounded from down the hallway as he walked towards them, Rhodey following close behind.

"The rain's not stopping anytime soon, so we're planning on hanging out in the lounging room," Tony explained.

"You know I can just drive you, right?" Rhodey supplied dryly. Tony gave him wide eyes.

"And get water on my brand new shoes?" He proudly displayed his old and dirty sneakers and huffed. "I think not,"

Rhodey shook his head but laughed.

"Fine," he caved. "But I do want to get work finished for tomorrow,"

Tony grinned happily.

"Thanks, Honey-Bear," He clapped his friend on the shoulder as he passed, speeding off in the hallway with a 'leggo!' called back at the group.

"Uh, Tones?" Rhodey called after him. "Your bag?"

Tony made a dramatic U-turn as he sped back to collect his bag, and then dragged Natasha and Rhodey with him by the arms.

"Keep up, people,"

Clint shrugged, moving to trot after them before looking back at Peter.

"Ya coming, kid?"

Peter grinned happily and sped after them, sending a quick text to May that he was staying longer at school.

With friends.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Peter realizes what hell he's actually found himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I really don't know how the American school system works or even what high schools look like, so I just made my own version.

"Wait, let me get this straight. You went to your first day in school today, and you're already part of the biggest friend group in the school?" May asked into the phone, slight confusion lining her features. She was on her 5-minute break at work and decided to call her boy to check how it was going there. She'd been a little surprised to find a text from Peter saying he stayed in school during until the weather had calmed down, with  _friends_. Especially the fact that it had implied that Peter had managed to befriend multiple people on his first day had pleasantly surprised her. She knew Peter was a sweet boy, but he'd never been able to make friends easily.

 _"Yeah, cool, right?"_ Peter's excited voice answered on the other side. _"They're all really nice, I'm playing games with them now,"_

May smiled at the excited tone her nephew was speaking in, almost seeing the happy grin on his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet like he always did when he was talking about something exciting.

"Well, I can't wait to hear about it tonight. My break's almost over, so I'll see you then,"

_"Bye, May! I love you!"_

Peter hung up, and May smiled to herself again. It sounded like her boy was in good hands there. She put her phone in her pocket, gathered her stuff and went back to work, relieved to know her nephew was doing good.

\--

This was officially the weirdest school Peter had  _ever_ seen.

Besides the cafeteria, there was another big common room, Harry Potter-sized, with a high ceiling and long tables and various places to sit comfortably with a large group. Peter was sitting with Clint on one of the comfortable couches, playing Mario Kart because this school had videogames for some reason. He was halfway through beating the (ex?)archer when something caught his attention. Or rather, someone.

Tony Stark was standing further into the room, by himself. His eyes seemed fixed on a certain point, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall with his shoulder. Peter followed his gaze to the other side of the room, but he only saw Steve, who was drawing alone at a table, his full focus on the paper in front of him. Peter looked back at Tony, but he was still looking at Steve. However, when Steve looked up from his paper, Tony was already looking at something else. Why would-

"Ha, I won!"

The happy and loud exclamation shook Peter from his thoughts, and he looked back at the screen where his car was being dropped on the road again. Clint was already over the finish.

"Dude, you weren't even  _trying_ anymore!" He laughed, beaming proudly as his character sped across the road in victory. Peter groaned. He'd taken up a bet with Clint that he could beat him at Mario Kart, but he'd been so distracted, he'd forgotten all about the game.

"You owe me ten bucks," Clint smirked, holding out his hand. Peter turned red.

"I, uh, I don't have any money right now," he stammered. He hadn't expected to lose...

"Well, I'm expecting payment soon," Clint huffed good-naturedly. Peter nodded, mentally cursing himself for losing focus like that.

"Hey, it's stopped raining!" Someone exclaimed suddenly. Immediately, everyone started running to the windows. Peter followed a bit more cautiously and saw that it had indeed stopped raining. In a fast pace, the students filed out of the room, running to their cars and bikes to get home before it started raining again. Peter quickly grabbed his jacket and backpack, running outside to his bike. Various kids from the group he'd become friends with said goodbye, and Peter felt a warm feeling in his chest as he waved back.

It felt nice to be part of such a big group of friends and be accepted, but he also missed Ned and MJ. Ned had been his best friend since pre-school and it was hard to imagine high school without him. Peter felt a lump form in his throat as he thought about what was really happening. Ned wouldn't be there with him to nerd out about Star Wars. Ned wouldn't be there to build legos with him. Ned wouldn't be there complaining about wanting to be the 'Guy In The Chair' and asking questions until Peter felt like his ears were falling off. Ned wouldn't be there to talk reassuring words whenever he'd embarrassed himself in front of Mr. Stark once again.

Ned wouldn't be there.

He quickly grabbed his bike and raced home, fighting the tears in his eyes and swallowing past the painful lump in his throat. He left his bike unlocked when he dumped it somewhere on the way to the door and raced up to his room. May wouldn't be home for another 30 minutes and Peter needed some time to calm down.

However, as soon as he entered his room, he couldn't hold it in anymore. He closed the door behind him, sliding down until he was seated on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around him. He looked around his room with a vision blurred with tears, the homesick feeling intensifying as he realized that this room was nothing like the one he was used to- the one he'd grown up in.

He couldn't help the sob that escaped his lips. He couldn't stop the others which followed. He couldn't stop his racing mind as the reality of it all dawned on him. He didn't have his friends. He didn't have his powers. Sure, he had a nice home but it held none of the memories he'd collected over the years. He didn't have his days out patrolling, and he didn't have his mentor-

Oh god, he didn't have Mr. Stark.

The man had always been an idol to Peter, even before he'd announced himself to be the new superhero, Iron Man. After that, Peter's respect and fascination for the genius billionaire had only grown, and Peter strove to be just like him. He'd saved him at the Stark Expo, where Peter had almost been killed by one Hammer's drones. Peter remembered watching from his window, despite his aunt yelling at him to " _Get away from the window, Peter!_ " and seeing the Iron Man suit with Tony Stark inside of it carry a nuke through a wormhole. He remembered holding his breath, all focus on the steadily closing portal in the sky. And he remembered cheering the hardest when the suit fell back out. And at some point along the road, he'd actually  _met_ the man. He'd made a total fool out of himself (repeatedly), but Tony had never seemed fazed by it. And if you asked, Peter wouldn't be able to tell you when the feeling had come, and when exactly he'd accepted it. But Peter Parker saw Tony Stark,  _the_ Tony Stark, as a  _father_. 

And now he was gone.

His body shook with violent shivers, his nails making dents in his arms as he grasped them too tightly. He closed his eyes, tears falling down on his arms. Another sob escaped when he realized that the last memory he had of his mentor as he knew him, was his hero covered in blood with desperation in his eyes, as he held onto him tightly as if that would keep him from falling apart. The one time Tony Stark couldn't find any words to say. No matter how many languages his genius brain could remember, he didn't have the words to say as Peter was falling apart in his arms.

And now he was a teenager. A boy, younger than Peter himself who didn't know who Peter was and what they really meant to each other. For the first time since he woke up that morning, Peter realized what horror he'd really ended up in. And for the first time, Peter realized that he'd lost it all. 

\--

May came home later than he'd expected, but when Peter heard the front door open and close and he was still sitting on the floor with red, puffy eyes, he realized that it might have been a good thing. He quickly shot up, washing his face and calming his breaths. May was still there. He still had May. They were still together.

He glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, locking gazed with determined eyes. No, he hadn't lost it all. His aunt was still there. Hell, the  _Avengers_ were still there, Mr. Stark included. And, looking back, Peter realized that everyone had seemed happy. Even his aunt had been surprisingly chipper for a normal Monday morning.

He was a Parker. He would make the best of it.

Once Peter deemed himself presentable, he raced down the stairs to meet his aunt. He almost crushed her with a hug, giving her no time to breathe before he was off ranting about his day. As always, May let him rant, smiling at him and showing him that she was listening, throwing in the occasional question but overall just letting him rant.

"...And then it just started raining  _so hard_! I was absolutely  _soaked_. But Tony, the same kid who gave me his pencil, gave me spare clothes. Did you know I'm taller than him? Anyway, his friend comes up to me and he's all intimidating- but in a good way, I swear- and goes all 'Protective Best Friend' on me and that's so cool because he really cares, you know? And that's really awesome to see, don't you think?"

May chuckled as she continued unloading her grocery bag to prepare for dinner. It wouldn't be anything special as she was fully aware of the fact that she could  _not_ cook, but anything was better than constant take-out.

"And tomorrow we have art! We didn't have art in our last school. And- are you cooking?" He suddenly halted his rambling to cast a suspicious look at his aunt and the groceries she was unpacking.

"Yes, I am. Oh, don't look at me like that, I can cook us a decent meal every now and then,"

Peter raised his hands in defense, chuckling.

"Sure thing, Aunt May. I'll leave you to it, then,"

He walked out of the kitchen, just hearing his aunt mutter under her breath: "ye of little faith. I can cook a meal, thank you very much," before he was out of earshot. He quickly got out his homework and got to work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art class and the beginning of Stony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the fact that so many of you are excited about this story (honestly, me too). I really enjoy reading you guys' comments and I really appreciate the Kudos I've gotten. So here's another update, because I'm supposed to be studying for a lot of tests right now.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Hey, Peter!"

Peter looked up from where he'd been putting the lock on his bike, seeing Clint approaching him. He had a lopsided smile on his face, his backpack slung over his shoulder casually.

"Hey, Clint!" Peter called back happily. It was still a bit weird to him, going to school, knowing that a whole group of people were ready to hang out with him all day. It was weird, yes. But not at all bad.

"Listen. I know Steve has a crush. He's been staring ahead of him all the time and I  _know_ he's been drawing them,"

"Them?" Peter questioned.

"Well, I'm not going to assume the gender, of course! That'd be a bit rude, bud."

Peter was slightly stunned but smart enough not to comment about it further. Together, the two teens walked towards the school in relaxed conversation. Looking around, Peter saw more people walking in groups to the school. A bit to the left, Peter saw Nat with Bruce and Tony entering the school as well. Tony caught his look and gave him a friendly smirk (which reminded Peter so much of his mentor he almost cried) and gave a small wave. Peter lamely waved back before the three disappeared through the doors. He contemplated looking for him, but he still didn't really know the layout of the big school building and decided against it. He'd see him again, eventually. It seemed to him he'd be stuck here for a while.

The first three periods passed in a blur. He was following quite well in the classes he had. He assumed they'd assessed his grades from his last school and put him in the class that seemed to be best for him. He found some subjects a little harder than others, but never let it be said that Peter Parker didn't like the occasional educational challenges. Before he knew it, lunch break rolled around. He sat at what seemed to be the group's usual table and chatted with some of his new friends. The longer they talked, the more he began to like them, and it seemed the feeling was mutual.

Just like yesterday, the basketball team was playing a game in the cafeteria. Peter enjoyed watching them create a ruckus by jumping on and over tables to catch and throw the basketball. One team member accidentally splayed a girl's soup all over her. She was apparently one of the annoying 'plastics' that every high school seemed to have, and it wasn't long before the whole cafeteria was laughing at her soup-splattered face as she stormed out. Peter felt slightly sorry for her until one of his new friends (Peter enjoyed calling them that) explained that she was probably the biggest bitch you could possibly meet. He suddenly didn't feel as guilty for laughing anymore.

At some point, Tony jogged towards their table, Bucky in tow. Peter realized he hadn't even noticed his absence. But Steve had. He immediately jumped up, meeting the two in front of their table. Bucky wasn't looking at them, and he was holding his left shoulder, the one without the arm.

"What's going on? Buck, are you okay?" Steve asked, concerned.

"Relax, Cap. He's not dying," Tony spoke with a roll of his eyes. "I found your boyfriend by the lockers. Said you have his painkillers,"

Steve immediately rushed to correct him, and even Bucky looked up to deny with rushed exclamations: "No, we're not- we're not a couple," from Steve, and "We're not datin'!" from Bucky.

Tony raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You're not?" He questioned. Steve and Bucky shared a disgusted look and shook their heads.

"Dude, he's like my brother. You sayin' you thought I was datin' my brother?" Bucky muttered. "Besides, this punk is  _way_ out of my league," he huffed. Steve flushed, rushing to change the topic.

"You needed painkillers, jerk?" He asked with fake concern. Tony raised both eyebrows in surprise, mouth opening as if to say something but closed again before he could. Steve fished the bottle of pills from his bag and threw them not-too-kindly towards his best friend.

"Thanks, punk," Bucky replied, catching the bottle and sticking out his tongue. Tony raised his hands in defeat and walked back, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Peter caught something like "weirdos can't decide whether to kiss or fight, I give up" and Peter couldn't help but snicker softly at the boy's antics. Again, it reminded him a lot of the adult version of the billionaire superhero. Or rather, the  _ex_ -billionaire superhero, Peter supposed. But that was too complicated to think about, so he just settled to watching the basketball game again while wolfing down his lunch.

* * *

After lunch was art. There was quiet chatter as the class slowly gathered around the closed door of their next classroom. It was secluded from the other classrooms in the school, and, after peeking a look in, Peter saw it was bigger, too. He saw that the tables were slightly bigger, and there were big cupboards with all kinds of tools for the subject of art.

The kids standing closest to the door bounded back when the door opened, revealing their teacher.

Stood in front of them was a big, bulky man with big eyebrows and a serious face. His face looked to be stuck on a look in between strict and angry. Peter froze.

Because in front of him, as their new art teacher, stood the mad Titan himself.

Thanos.

Before he could be flooded by horrible, traumatic memories, Peter felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Steve smiled down at him, an excited glimmer in his eyes.

"You coming?" He asked, and Peter nodded numbly, following the football captain through the door.

Peter hoped he just imagined it, but he had the feeling that the big man had given him an extra angry look, and for a moment Peter feared the Titan knew that he was aware of what happened. But he got to his seat without complications, dropping down next to Clint with a sigh. Tony plopped down next to Rhodey a few seats away from him.

"Jeez, that guy gives me the chills. He looks like he's gonna stab me or something," he muttered.

Peter almost choked.

"Alright, class. You better listen up, because I don't like repeating myself," their teacher started. "My name is Mr. Thanos and, as I hope you're all intelligent enough to conclude, I'm your new art teacher,"

His voice was as low and threatening as Peter remembered, and it gave him chills. Tony just heaved an audible sigh. Thanos turned his head to look his way, and Peter's breath caught.

"Stark," the Titan stated. Tony looked up, brow furrowed.

"You know me?" He asked, suspicion in his voice.

"I do," Thanos nodded once. "You're not the only one cursed with knowledge," 

Peter recognized the words from the battle on the Titan's home planet, Titan. _H_ _uh,_  he thought dumbly. _That makes sense..._

For a moment, Peter held the far-fetched hope that it might trigger something in his mentor's memory, but the teen just snorted.

"What, of the class layout?"

A couple of kids laughed, and Thanos seemed a little thrown off by the snarky comment.

"Fine. You want to play smart, Stark? First warning,"

"What?!"

"Second. Another and you're out,"

Tony huffed but kept his mouth shut. Everyone else had watched the interaction, no one daring to speak. Thanos, or  _Mr._ Thanos, nodded.

"Wise choice. Now, let's begin with the lesson,"

Peter listened as their teacher started describing their assignment. They had to use their imagination to create something unique, something fitting to your personality. He said it would show who you are and your potential. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"Pay attention to every detail; the shapes, the colors. Everything needs to be perfectly balanced. Now, get your equipment and begin,"

Peter already knew what he wanted to draw- not a hard choice for him.

"What are you making?" Clint asked him softly. Peter glanced down at his friend's paper, seeing the beginning of a handbow.  _Duh._

"A spider," he answered. Clint gave him a look.

"You like spiders?" He asked incredulously. Now, it was Peter's turn to make a face.

"No, I'm terrified of them," he answered as if Clint was crazy for even assuming something else. Clint looked confused for a moment before shrugging and continuing working on his masterpiece.

After what must have been at least 15 minutes, Peter looked up from his paper, twisting his hurting neck. Looking around, he saw Tony working on his own project, but he kept grabbing his eraser in annoyance. Steve, who was seated behind him, looked up when Tony slammed his eraser back down on the table, followed by his head. Peter saw Steve lean over his own table towards the brunette.

"Hey, you alright there?" He asked softly, as not to attract any attention. Tony raised his head from the table to give him a look that Peter could identify as the Are-You-Seriously-Asking-That-Right-Now look that adult Tony had often worn when someone had asked him if he'd been taking care of himself recently. Steve chuckled and, to Peter's surprise, Tony cracked a soft smile at that.

"I can, uh, I can help you out a bit if you want?" Steve offered nervously, blushing a bit and scratching his neck. Tony looked perplexed at the offer for a moment, before nodding.

"Yeah- uh, sure, I guess," he mumbled. Steve took that as an invitation to noisily pull his chair next to Tony's table, blushing a bit at the sound it made. Tony just laughed it off, a faint blush on his tanned cheeks. "I can't really get this part right," he muttered, pointing at his paper. Steve studied it, his face showing a look of surprise.

"Wow," he breathed. "This is- this is really good,"

Tony's cheeks flushed at the praise, but he laughed the compliment off quickly.

"Nah, that's alright. I know it sucks. I just can't get the lines to flow over, you know?"

Peter saw Rhodey look up from where he was working on his own drawing, seemingly ready to tell his friend off for not accepting the compliment, when Steve beat him to it.

"No, I'm serious! This is really good. I didn't know you could draw that well!"

Tony's face got impossibly redder, and Peter was slightly surprised. He'd never seen his mentor blush-  _ever._ He had actually assumed the man just  _couldn't_ blush. But then he realized that the billionaire didn't really get many genuine compliments. They were always the same- always about how smart and amazing one of his creations was, and always by people who just wanted to look good in front of Tony Stark.

(Also, Peter later realized, the man didn't really show much emotion at all, let alone something such a dead giveaway as a blush.)

"Well, I have to draw schematics a lot. You know, for my projects. It's kind of in the job description," Tony laughed nervously, a hand grabbing his left wrist- a tick that Peter had seen adult Tony do, too. 

"Well, yeah. I get that. But this is...  _talent_ , Tony!" Steve persisted, a look of pleasant surprise still on his face. "But I can see what's going wrong. You see, this does look more like a schematic for a project, rather than a drawing. So if you just-"

Steve started pointing things out, talking with Tony practically hanging at his lips. The latter's face seemed to brighten as Steve explained the issue. Steve motioned for him to try it, and Tony picked up the pencil again, tongue slightly poking out between his lips in concentration.

"Exactly," Steve encouraged. "And if you hold the pencil like this..."

He gently grabbed Tony's hand, readjusting the pencil. As soon as he realized what he was doing, however, his face turned a bright shade of red. Tony's did, too, and they both chuckled nervously, turning their heads to look at each other. Both seemed about to apologize, but nothing came from their mouths as they met gazes. Steve's hand was still on Tony's as they were looking each other in the eyes. Only the sound of pencils falling on the other side of the room shook them from their stupor, both awkwardly clearing their throat as Steve retracted his hand. Tony opted to pretend the seconds of gazing in blue eyes didn't happen as he followed Steve's advice on the drawing. And, surely, the line went perfectly the way he wanted it to. He laughed in surprise, looking back at Steve with a wide grin. Before he knew it, the blush was back on his cheeks and he looked down to hide it, fiddling with his pencil.

"Um thanks- thanks for the, uh, advice," he stuttered and Steve laughed.

"You're welcome, Tony,"

Steve went back to his place one row behind, picking up his chair this time. Tony turned back to his drawing, biting his lip slightly to conceal a smile. Rhodey nudged him with his elbow and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "You're blushing, dude,"

"Am not," Tony responded quickly, averting his friend's teasing gaze. Rhodey just laughed.

"You look like a tomato, man," he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Tony mumbled something under his breath but didn't go further into it. Rhodey just smirked at him, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Peter turned back to his own drawing, slightly confused by what he'd just seen. First in the break room, when they'd both acted weird, and now  _this_? What was going on between those two? As he continued drawing, he pondered over the thought. His mind seemed to always be racing since he'd woken up here, as all of this was a lot to take in. Both with this being a whole different town and the Avengers now being awkward teenagers- like him. He almost laughed out loud when he thought back to his mentor, seemingly always confident and the smartest in the room, and then at the teenager, blushing furiously as he bent over his drawing. It was weird to think that they were the same person. And the two team leaders were both acting weird.

Peter didn't know what was going on between the two- but he was determined to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, can't those two lovebirds just kiss already?!
> 
> Please remember to comment and leave kudos, they make my day and stimulate my writing. Thank you for reading this chapter, more coming soon!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this out sooner, but life just doesn't always allow that, sadly. I have vacation now, but it's currently really hot outside and I'll be going to France for a week so I don't know if I'll be getting much time to write. So here's a quick update, I hope y'all like it.
> 
> I don't exactly know how this turned out, so let me know in the comments whether or not it sucks. Thanks ;)

Unlike most schools in America, Peter didn't have the same classes each day. And the days weren't just as long as the last one, either. See, you could be finished with school around 2 PM one day, and be home just in time for dinner the other. That's what Peter realized today while he sauntered off to his next class, thinking about the fact that the had already been done with classes two periods ago the day before. Mondays were short, but Tuesdays were almost twice as long. Luckily, they had a fifteen-minute break before the last few periods.

Peter had been sitting (read: sleeping) at his now usual table (if you could call it that after sitting at it for only two days) with his friends, but there hadn't been much conversation. Even the basketball team had resigned to just passing the ball around the table, instead of dancing atop it and stepping in everyone's food. Peter vaguely registered Tony's absence but decided not to dread on it. Maybe he was just lunching elsewhere. Outside, the weather was beautiful. The sun was shining, the skies were blue and there was nothing to indicate there had been a huge storm barely 24 hours before.

When the bell rang, Peter dragged himself away from the table to get to his next class. As students filed into the hallways, Peter caught a glimpse of something... out of the ordinary. It was too quick for his brain to fully process it, but Peter knew it wasn't good. He abandoned the group of friends to walk in the direction of-  _whatever_ it was he'd seen.

It didn't take him long. Students still passed him from all sides, but Peter could quickly see what had caught his eye in the first place. Because there in the hallways, pushed up against the lockers, was Tony Stark. His backpack lay forgotten at his feet, the contents of it sprawled out across the hall. He had a bloody lip and blood running from his nose. There was a big guy standing in front of him, holding him so far up his feet didn't touch the ground, a skinny, rich looking boy standing behind them, cleaning his nails. He was holding his hands up in surrender, and Peter could see the tremors from where he stood. 

"Look, I- I'll g-get them f-for y-you, I-I swear," he panted, the hands holding him up restricting his breathing and panic rising in his chest. "P-please, just-just d-don't,  _please_ ,"

"I want them  _now_ , Stark," said the buff guy. He had a German accent and basically just resembled the perfect villain.

"We both do," the tall, skinny and clearly arrogant guy joined in, looking up from his manicure. "So let me make this clear, Anthony. You will work your ass off to finish your work coming period, and you will give it to us before the 8th-period starts, understood?"

Tony didn't answer, and Peter knew why. Next class was calculus, and Peter supposed that Tony must have  _loved_ calculus. He was  _Tony Stark_ , a literal  _genius_. Of _course_ , he would be interested in calc. And these... these  _bullies_ were asking him to waste it. Peter felt his blood boil under his skin, his fists balled as he forced his breathing to slow down. There was nothing he could do without his powers, but he'd never missed them before as much as now. Arrogant nodded at Buff, who punched the small teenager in the stomach, making him double over in pain, gasping for breath. That proved to be quite the struggle as his feet were still not touching the ground. Buff didn't give the boy any time to recover, punching him square in the face. He let go of Tony's jacket as his fist made connection with the boy's jaw, letting the momentum cause the kid to slide across the floor before lying still in a heap of gasping and coughing teenager.

Arrogant kneeled next to him, grabbing Tony's hair and forcing him to look him in the face.

"Do you understand, Anthony?"

Tony nodded and Arrogant let go after forcefully throwing his head back on the ground. He walked off, Buff hot on his heels. Of course, Buff couldn't leave before first delivering a final kick in Tony's ribs. The sound of his body hitting the lockers was loud in the now empty hallways. As soon as the bullies disappeared, Peter rushed toward the groaning boy on the ground. He threw away his backpack, kneeling next to who he considered a friend.

"Hey, man. You alright?" He asked nervously, not knowing what else to say and not daring to touch him. Tony turned his head, bleary eyes blinking up at him in surprise. Peter felt the concern weigh heavy in his stomach as Tony struggled to focus on his face.

"Oh, he-hey Parker," Tony said, finally managing to focus in on his face. He sounded slightly out of breath, a noticeable strain in his voice.

"Do you- uh, do you need to go to the nurse's office?" Peter asked unsurely. But Tony quickly rushed to reassure him, groaning as he tried to sit up.

"No! N-no, that's- uh, th-that's alright. I-I'm alright, rea-really," he panted, managing to sit up with Peter's help. He leaned his back against the lockers, eyes closed and struggling to control his breathing. "I-I n-need to- to get to cl-class, anyway,"

Peter frowned at the stutters but decided that that was probably the least of his worries right now. His main priority was to get Tony checked out because the boy's usually tanned face looked alarmingly pale and he seemed unable to gain control his breathing.

"But you're hurt. You could even have a concussion. And you're  _bleeding_ , Tony!" Peter pleaded, desperation filling his voice. Tony gave him a weird look as a hand came up to his nose, frowning when his hand came back bloody. Peter rolled his eyes, moving to help the boy up. But Tony immediately resisted the helping hands, opting to push himself up. Peter reached out again when the brunet staggered on his feet, but Tony waved the gesture off again.

"I'm- I'm good, t-thanks," he panted slightly. Peter, realizing he couldn't change the other kid's mind, picked up the worn backpack, beginning to put his stuff back in again. "Oh y-you r-really don't- don't need to- oh, okay," he started, cutting himself off as Peter zipped the bag closed. Peter moved to hand it back to him, but the look in Tony's eyes stopped him. He remembered trying to hand his pencil back the day before, and the look that had crossed those brown eyes for just a fraction of a second before it was gone again. The exact same look was what he was met with when he held out the backpack and he cocked his head to the side in a silent question. Tony just seemed to grow increasingly more uncomfortable.

Peter cleared his throat, sliding the bag over to the boy pushed against the lockers. Some of the tension seemed to leave Tony's body as he picked up the bag from where it came to a stop at his feet.

"Now, clean up your face and let's go to class, cuz we're late," Peter nodded towards the bathrooms close by, and Tony immediately rushed off, nearly losing his footing at least three times before he'd crossed the small distance and disappeared through the door to the boy's restroom. Peter chose to wait for him in the hall, his foot tapping against the floor tiles, asking himself if he was really doing the right thing. _Then again_ , he reasoned with himself, _good luck trying to convince Tony Stark's mind when it comes to self-care._

Tony came back barely minutes later, face devoid of blood- although still alarmingly pale. There was a new kind of panic in his eyes as he seemed to realize how late he really was.

" _Shit_ ," Peter heard him groan softly under his breath, followed by what Peter supposed were some colorful curses in Italian. "He's g-going to  _kill_ me,"

They burst into the classroom together, their teacher turning around with an unimpressed look. He took off his glasses with a sigh, eyeing the two judgingly.

"This isn't a very good look for a new student, Mr. Parker," he said. Peter turned a bright shade of red as he muttered an apology under his breath.

"It- it was my f-fault, Mr. Pym," Tony cut in and Peter could hear the strain in his voice as he fought to pronounce the words correctly. "I k-kept him busy. Sorry, w-won't happen again, I-I promise," his voice kept getting softer until the last part was practically a whisper. Mr. Pym sighed, his expression softening.

"It's alright, Mr. Stark. Just make sure to be on time from now on, alright?"

Both teenagers nodded quickly, and Peter tried not to reach out again when the motion seemed to make Tony dizzy. He recomposed himself quickly, rushing to his seat. They didn't have standard seats, so there were exactly two empty for Peter and Tony to slide into. Tony immediately started pulling out his textbook and a notebook and started scribbling away frantically. Mr. Pym gave him a look but didn't address him for it, and Tony didn't stop, either. Peter felt a sick feeling in his stomach when he realized that Tony was doing  _exactly_ what his bullies asked of him. But he also knew he wouldn't be able to change the young genius' mind so he let it be, ignoring the sour taste in his mouth and the heavy weight of guilt in his stomach.

* * *

 It was approximately 30 minutes later, near the end of class when things got out of hand. Peter had been noticing some odd behavior from his left where Tony sat. The boy seemed to be sweating and shivering at the same time, and he kept jerking away like a spasm whenever his ribs made contact with the table. But Peter couldn't ignore it anymore when he heard the soft  _drip, drip_ of blood hitting the paper that Tony'd been working on. Tony's hand slowly rose to his nose, which was bleeding sluggishly. Peter shot a look to the front of the class where their teacher stood, but his back was turned towards them, oblivious to what was happening.

Tony made to get up, sliding out of his seat, probably to go to the restroom to stop the bleeding, when he suddenly collapsed. Just like that. It happened very quickly- Peter saw him get up, blinked, and Tony was on the ground. Peter immediately stood up, rushing to his side. Rhodey was quicker, already kneeling next to his friend when Peter got there. Rhodey turned his friend over to lie on his back with gentle hands, whispering softly to him. Mr. Pym had already noticed, too, and was making his way through the quickly forming circle of students.

"Step away from him, give him some space!" He ordered, pushing through the rows of students to kneel beside the teen on the ground. Tony was blinking owlishly up at them, eyes glassy and unfocused. Blood was still coming from his nose and the split in his lip.

"What happened?" Mr. Pym asked Peter, who was still slightly freaking out. He was about to respond when Tony interrupted them with a sound between a groan and a whine, followed by him coughing out some blood that had slipped through his lips. Mr. Pym seemed to make up his mind, looking at Rhodey with a short order: "Help me get him to the nurse's office, this doesn't look good,"

Rhodey nodded, slinging one of his friend's arms around his shoulders while Mr. Pym did the same on his other side. He nudged Peter with his head.

"You too, Parker,"

Peter simply nodded, following the two as they carried Tony out. Tony was concerningly unresponsive, his head lolling slightly on his neck. Rhodey and Mr. Pym were talking in hushed but urgent voices over the boy's head.

"How was he this morning?" Mr. Pym asked. Rhodey shook his head.

"He was fine this morning- all day, actually. When he came in he seemed a little pale, so I'm guessing it must have been something during the last break,"

Peter was secretly impressed with Rhodey to keep his calm demeanor while his friend was coughing blood out of his mouth, muttering incoherently while they carried him quickly through the halls. Mr. Pym nodded in response to Rhodey's deduction.

"And has he had this before?"

"He's been sick out of the blue before, you know, fever, throwing up. But that's usually under...  _different circumstances_ , if you know what I mean," Rhodey said softly, and Mr. Pym nodded. "But I don't think that's the case here," Mr. Pym just hummed thoughtfully in response, not replying any further as they neared the nurse's office.

"Peter, please run ahead to tell him to make a table ready," Mr. Pym ordered the distraught teenager stumbling behind. Peter nodded numbly, running past them to the room that seemed to be the school's infirmary. He burst through the door, almost crashing into another body. He stumbled back slightly, feeling heavy hands set on his shoulders. Peter let the weight ground him as he tried regaining his bearings.

If he were more aware, he would've definitely freaked out at the face hovering in front of him, but he chose to ignore that for a while as he ranted off to Dr. Strange.

"It's- it's Tony, he-he's- uh, he needs help, doctor, sir. He's- he's right..." he pointed back at the hallway where he could already hear footsteps approaching. The doctor sighed and smiled, not concerned in the slightest.

"Again? It's the third time this year already and we're barely a month in-" the rest died on his tongue as Tony was carried through the door. The loose and carefree expression made place for one of deep concentration as he cleared a table.

"Put him on here," he ordered, and Rhodey and Mr. Pym easily lay the teenager down on the table. Dr. Strange put a soft cushion under Tony's sweaty head, carefully wiping some of the blood off his face with a wet cloth. Tony whimpered, his head rolling from one side to the other, eyes screwed shut. Strange put his hand on the boy's forehead, frowning at the temperature.

Suddenly, Tony's body constricted, gagging noises emitting from his throat.

"Turn him on his side!" Strange ordered urgently and Tony was quickly rolled on his side while Strange held a bucket under the boy's head. Tony promptly threw up. Strange patted his back comfortingly as Tony dry heaved painfully. "It's alright, Tony. Just get it out," he spoke in a soft and soothing voice. When Tony seemed done, he turned him on his back again. Strange put another wet cloth and draped it over his eyes and forehead before turning to Mr. Pym.

"He has a concussion and a high fever. I'm not letting him get back to class, at least not until he genuinely feels better. Rhodey, will you be able to take him home?"

Rhodey nodded.

"But I don't think it'd be a good idea to drive him at the moment. I wouldn't like his sick all over my car,"

"I'll keep him here until he's a little more lucid. One of you is allowed to stay with him if you want?"

Rhodey and Peter shared a look. Peter really didn't want to leave, but he knew that Rhodey was Tony's best friend. He'd understand if he didn't want to leave his sick best friend in the care of a new kid-

"Peter can stay," Rhodey spoke up. Peter looked up at him in surprise. "He might know more about how this happened, as the two entered late together. Besides, I really can't afford to miss too much of calculus. Peter's better at it than me, anyway,"

The adults nodded in understanding, and Mr. Pym led Rhodey back to class. Dr. Strange was about to walk off to get some medicine for Tony, when he halted at the sight of the slightly dumbstruck boy standing in the room, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Hey, Peter, right?" Peter nodded. "How about you stay with him while I get his medication? I've had him here a couple of times before and noticed that he doesn't do too well alone,"

Peter nodded again, immediately rushing to the table but unsure as to what to do. He bit his lip anxiously. Tony couldn't see him because of the cloth over his eyes, probably to block out the harsh lights above him, and he didn't know if it was a smart idea to just touch him.

"P-Peter?" A soft voice shook Peter from his racing thoughts. Peter looked back at Tony, seeing a hand reach out blindly. Peter didn't hesitate to hold the trembling hand gently in his.

"I'm here," he said softly in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. Tony reached up to his face, probably to take off the cloth, but Peter gently pushed the hand back down again. "Not a good idea," he said when an offended whine emitted from Tony's throat. "You have a concussion, the lights will hurt,"

Tony huffed but didn't try again. It was silent after that and slightly awkward, but Tony held Peter's hand in a death grip so Peter didn't dare to let go. He briefly wondered why it took Strange so long to get the medicine when Tony spoke up again.

"Will you- uh, c-can you t-talk, please?"

It was such a vulnerable question that Peter was taken aback slightly. His silence didn't come over well, however.

"N-n-never m-mind, it-it's a s-stupid q-question a-any-anyway," he rushed out, loosening his grip on Peter's hand. But Peter didn't let go.

"No, that's alright, I'll talk," he reassured him, and Tony hesitantly tightened his grip on Peter's hand again. Peter softly began saying anything that came to mind- about his aunt, her _amazing_ cooking skills (*cough cough*) and about his life before this. Besides the, you know,  _superhero_ stuff.

He didn't notice Dr. Strange standing a few feet away, watching the two fondly. He'd seen Tony here more times than he liked and was healthy for the boy, but the poor kid had never had such good company before. _Peter Parker_... He filed the name away in his mind to look into later. He took the medication, softly coming up to the duo. Peter spotted him, his face turning slightly red. Tony twitched slightly when Peter stopped talking, moving to take off the cloth again. Strange softly pushed the hand back down.

"I have your medication here, Tony. It should help with the headaches. Peter, help him sit up, will you?"

Tony dutifully took his medicine and helped Strange in doing some tests. When Strange concluded that the concussion was minor and the painkillers had kicked in, he allowed Tony to take off the cloth. The boy blinked blearily but didn't seem to be in much pain. Strange allowed him to sit on one of the comfortable couches as he took Peter to speak with him alone.

"Is he going to be okay?" The young boy asked anxiously. Strange offered him a reassuring smile- one he would have never shown before becoming the school doctor- and nodded.

"He's lucky it's only a minor concussion. He's a tough kid- he's certainly been through worse. He'll be up and about in no time." Peter breathed a sigh of relief but the doctor's face turned serious again. "However, I don't have to be a doctor to know that concussions don't just  _appear_. Do you have any idea where he could've gotten it?"

Peter's fists balled again as he thought back to the fight in the hallways. He himself had some experience with bullies, but he was lucky that the high school bully Flash didn't get physical like that. But it had been two against one, and a small boy like Tony was no match for the big Buff.

"It was two guys," Peter started. "I didn't see all of it, but when I found them they were holding Tony up against the lockers. His lip was already split and his nose was bleeding. They asked him to do something- I don't know what- and he refused. He got punched pretty hard." 

Dr. Strange nodded, a frown on his face. He'd been suspecting some aggressive activity toward the young genius, but he hadn't thought it was _that_ bad. The boy had been frequently walking in with a sheepish smile and a bleeding nose, but never as bad as it was now.

"And I don't assume you know who they were?" He asked. As expected, Peter shook his head.

"No," he said ruefully. "But one of them, the one holding Tony up, was big and had a German accent. The other was tall and skinny and appeared content to let the big guy do the dirty work."

Strange nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't been here all that long, and, since he wasn't a teacher, didn't know all the students. But it was a pretty accurate description, so he could work with that.

"Thank you, Peter. Now, I think your friend is getting impatient. Please calm him down before he injures himself further."

Peter looked back at Tony, who was unsurprisingly no longer on the couch, opting instead to take apart one of Strange's weird equipment. Peter laughed because Tony Stark was still Tony Stark. He would never be able to resist taking stuff apart. He was about to walk over before remembering something.

"Uhm, sir?" He asked Strange, who raised an eyebrow in question. "I- uh, I think there's something with his ribs, too. He kept jerking away whenever they made contact with the table." Strange thought this over, looking at the teen messing with his equipment.

"Alright, I'll take a look at it," he nodded. Peter gave him a thankful smile before walking over to Tony, announcing his presence with a chipper "hey". Tony didn't even turn around.

"This stuff is shit. It's, like, at  _least_ twenty years old. Do you know how unreliable twenty-year-old tech is? Very. The answer is  _very_ unreliable. I could make this so much better if-"

"Don't break my stuff, Stark!" Strange called from where he'd disappeared into another room. 

"I'm not breaking it, just making it better!" Tony called back, slightly offended. Peter had to stifle a laugh as he thought about how  _Tony Stark_ that sounded. Then again, he had to remind himself once more, this _was_ Tony Stark.

The shorter brunette (which meant Tony, for once) shuffled back to the couch, plopping down with a sigh as he lay his head back. His face still seemed a bit too pale but the painkillers seemed to be doing a good job.

"Are you still in pain?" Peter asked softly.

"I'm fine," Tony responded, just a bit too quick for it to sound convincing. He immediately heaved a sigh again as he seemed to realize what he'd done. "Sorry," he apologized softly. "I'm- I'm okay. Thanks, uh, thanks for asking." Peter raised his eyebrows.

"You're, uh- you're welcome, I guess?" He said, slightly confused. Another awkward silence fell over them as Peter sat beside Tony on the couch, wracking his brain for something to say to break the silence. "How're your ribs?" He asked eventually.

"Lovely," was the gruff response.

"Are you, uh, are you feeling better?" Peter tried again.

"No,"

"Oh, okay." Peter looked down at his hands, not knowing what else to say. He looked up again when he heard Tony groan in what sounded like annoyance.

"Sorry," he said in a small voice, fiddling with his hands. "I just don't like being sick, and painkillers make me feel woozy and stuff. My anxiety doesn't exactly like that."

Peter bit back his pitying words, knowing Tony wouldn't really appreciate that. It wasn't what he needed, either.

"That's alright, I understand," he chose to say instead. He didn't get anything else out as Rhodey stepped into the room again. He exchanged a quick word with Dr. Strange (Peter still wondered why they had a doctor in the nurse's office, but who was he to judge when he called himself Spider- _Man_ ) and walked toward his friend, his medicine in hand.

"You alright to go, Tones?" He asked kindly. Tony nodded, all his previous energy seemingly dissipated as he allowed his best friend to pull him up from the couch. Rhodey shot Peter a grateful look and a nod before turning around to walk out, Tony leaning heavily into his side. Peter watched them go, worry mixed with relief pooling in his stomach. He was worried something would happen and Peter wouldn't be there, but he felt immense relief knowing the sick boy was being taken care of by his best friend.

"You best get to class now, Peter," said Strange. Peter nodded- there was nothing more he could do now. He thanked the doctor before walking out and back to his classroom. Mr. Pym gave him a knowing look and a reassuring smile as he entered. He sat down, trying to focus on what Mr. Pym was saying when suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked behind him, seeing the concerned face of Steve Rogers.

"Is he okay?" He whispered, concern in his eyes and voice.

"Mr. Rogers, please. No talking," said Mr. Pym sternly from the front of the class. Steve nodded, but still looked hopefully at Peter. Peter nodded, a smile as reassuring as he could muster on his face.

"He will be," he whispered back softly. Steve visibly deflated, the tension disappearing from his shoulders. He nodded at him gratefully before refocusing on the lesson, looking a lot more relaxed. Peter smiled softly to himself before scribbling down the last few notes before the bell rang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Also, let me know what you'd like to see later on in this story, and I'll see if I can work with it :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets Tony's phone number! (and so does Peter but that's not exactly what matters right now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, @GlieseStar for the suggestions for this chapter (and part of the rest of the plot) (there is a plot, believe it or not)  
> Sorry for such a short chapter, but I just wanted to get something out there after not posting in a while.
> 
> ENDGAME SPOILERS FOLLOWING  
> IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE, THEN KEEP SCROLLING (also, what the hell, man? Go watch it!)  
> Okay, so I know the ending of the movie, alright. I know that Tony died. But let me tell you this. Tony will never be dead for me. I am a die-hard Tony fangirl, and I will never let my smoll bean go, alright? I will continue writing this story, and I will throw my heart and soul into it because darn it Tony ain't dead to me!
> 
> Thank you. Enjoy!

Tony didn't show up for the rest of the week. Rhodey came to school late and went home early to take care of him (Peter had very cleverly figured out that Tony lived with them), but didn't seem overly concerned.

"He doesn't do too well alone," the dark-skinned boy said when Steve had nervously asked how Tony was doing. "but he's not that sick anymore. I just don't allow him back to school yet- he's prone to migraines."

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, the tension falling off his shoulders like a ton of bricks. Rhodey smirked teasingly.

"That reminds me, I uh- I wondered if I could have his number."

Rhodey raised his eyebrow, a slight smirk on his lips.

"Not like  _that_!" Steve quickly argued, face red. "I mean, I just missed some notes in class and I was wondering if, you know..." he trailed off, fidgeting with his sleeves. Rhodey pushed back a laugh, sending Steve a look instead.

"I am in no position to give away his number to anyone," he said sternly before walking off. Steve sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping. Peter almost felt pity for him, but it was just too funny a sight to feel bad. Steve perked up again when he saw Nat walking down the hallway.

"Hey, Nat!" He called out, his voice suspiciously high. Natasha raised an unimpressed and perfectly manicured eyebrow. Steve fidgeted nervously under her heavy gaze. "Do you, uh, do you have Tony's number?" Nat didn't falter as she nodded slowly.

"I do," she confirmed. "Why?"

"Well, you see, I missed some notes in a class a couple of days ago and I was wondering if-"

He cut himself off when Nat threw a ball of paper in his face. He unfolded it with a frown, seeing a number, presumably Tony's, written in Nat's handwriting. Next to it was, again in her handwriting, a small note. 

_'Took you long enough, doofus'_

For what felt like the millionth time in a short period of time, Steve flushed bright red as he quickly called after the retreating figure of Nat.

"It's nothing- I just want to talk to him! About the... notes."

"Yeah, or talk about- you know,  _other things_." Clint chimed in with a cheeky smirk. Steve flushed impossibly redder but added the number in his phone. He seemed to treasure it afterward. Peter decided to talk to the blond after school- he needed some answers.

"Hey, Steve!" Peter called as he hurried after the big boy after school ended. He'd spotted the blond walking out with his friend, Barnes, and decided to try and talk to him now. Catching up on them proved to be quite a challenge as his small, skinny frame almost got lost in the sea of students. But Steve waited patiently and with a friendly smile on his face. Peter wondered if he just did it so much his face was just stuck on that expression. Peter wriggled himself free from where he was stuck between two big bodies, and stopped in front of him, panting slightly. "Hey, man," he breathed, hands on his knees to catch his breath. He cursed his normal body, longing for the stamina the bite had given him. "I- uh... I just wanted to talk to you for a sec."

He eyed Bucky wearily, not entirely comfortable with him yet (he'd seen Tony after Siberia. No matter how much Tony had tried to hide it, Peter had seen the way he'd jumped at every shadow, flinched at every touch and how his heart rate sped up when Barnes had been mentioned once). Steve nodded, telling his friend to go ahead already. Peter waited slightly impatiently until the brunet was out of sight before turning his attention to Rogers. Steve seemed ready to listen to whatever Peter had to say, his face and eyes irritatingly kind.

"Listen, Rogers," Peter bit out, trying to sound as threatening as he could while still slightly out of breath. "I don't know what your deal is with Tony, but you're not being very subtle about it. What's your game here, man?"

"I-I don't-" Steve spluttered, obviously thrown off guard by Peter's tone. But Peter didn't let him speak.

"Rhodey told me you  _never_ miss notes. That means you got Tony's number for a different reason, one which you won't tell. I'm not going to push for it," he added quickly when Steve looked ready to defend himself. "but just know that I'm watching you."

He pointed with two fingers towards his own eyes and then to Steve's, before walking away as confident as he could while almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.

_Why would you do the hand gesture!?_

* * *

 

May was already home and cooking dinner when Peter stepped through the door.

"Hey, Peter!" She greeted him kindly.

"Hmpf," Peter replied gruffly as he dropped his bag by the door, his jacket quickly following. He knew May wouldn't pressure him to clean it up- her own jacket was lying not far from his. May poked her head around the kitchen door at his reply.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" She asked with a fake pout. Peter just slumped down on the couch, mumbling something incoherently under his breath. May sighed and abandoned her work in the kitchen to plop down next to her nephew on the couch. "Having a bit of a hard time, Petey-pie?" She cooed while pulling Peter's head to rest on her chest. Peter made another 'hmpf'-sounding noise before reluctantly explaining.

"Tony hasn't been in school since he got sick. And now it's the weekend, and I don't know what to do now." He sniffed dramatically.

"Well," May started, her hand going through his hear soothingly. "You could always talk to him, right? Ask him how he's feeling, maybe even come over?" She suggested. "Or, you know, you could do your homework--"

Peter shot up straight, all grumpiness forgotten.

"No, that's alright, really."

May laughed as she saw the look on her kid's face. She was rather curious to know who this "Tony" was that her nephew kept talking about. He seemed like a nice kid, but May was naturally a bit suspicious. She knew well enough not all nice people stayed nice.

Then again, she told herself, this was high school. A really weird high school at that, but high school all the same. Maybe she was overreacting a little bit. Well, sue her for trying to keep her kid safe.

"Oh, wait." Peter's face fell. "I- I forgot to aks his number..."

"Do you know anyone else who has his number?" May supplied helpfully. Peter perked up. Right! He remembered exchanging numbers with Steve early that week. Steve had brought it up during lunch, just in case he needed a friend as he was new in town. And Steve had gotten Tony's number today.

He quickly got his phone out of his pocket, racing to find Steve's contact and ask him the question. May chuckled softly at his excitement. How come she had raised such an angel-

 _Shit_.

"Oh, dinner!" She exclaimed when the scent of pasta reached her nose. She quickly raced towards the kitchen to check on the food. Peter looked up, wincing slightly. He knew what was coming.

"Eh, hey, Pete?" May's head poked around the door once more. "How do you feel about take-out?"

* * *

 

Peter was just ready to dig into his lobster when his phone buzzed. He dropped his cutlery to fish his phone from his pocket. It was from Steve.

 ** _Hey, sorry for responding so late._** It read. Peter almost rolled his eyes; of  _course,_ he'd apologize for something like  _that_.  ** _I got a new phone and I don't exactly know how to work it yet..._  **(some things never changed)  ** _But here's the number:_**

Peter typed out a quick  ** _thank you!_** before adding the number to his phone. He was about to type a text when a piece of food hit him on the forehead. He looked up, slightly offended, with a high pitched  _"hey!"_ already on his tongue.

"At dinner, we're offline, young man." May threateningly pointed a fork full of lobster in his face.

"But  _May_ ," Peter started to argue, shoulders sagging.

"Na-ah, don't " _May"_ me. Phone away. _E_ _at._ God knows you have a  _crazy_ appetite."

Peter couldn't disagree with her, so he put his phone in his pocket and dug into his food. He'd text Tony later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming up soon! Please tell me what you think of this story so far, and if you have suggestions; I'm all ears!
> 
> Also, comments and kudos make my day :p


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more Tony! Also, what's this about Marvel's superhero comics?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many new ideas because of comments and stuff, so if you have any suggestions, don't wait to comment below. Who knows, I might use it...
> 
> For now, enjoy the update!

_**Tony "friggin" Stark  
**_ _Last seen: 6.56 PM_

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.00 PM]  
_ **_Hey man, how are you doing? I noticed you didn't come to school again, so I just wanted to ask you how you were doing myself_**

**_It's Peter, BTW_**

**_Parker_**

Peter waited anxiously as he watched his phone, waiting for the familiar  _ping_. He didn't have to wait long, and he practically jumped out of his skin as he'd set the ringtone volume at max.

 _[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.04 PM. Read]  
_ **_Hey, Peter. Yeah, I'm fine, Rhodey-Bear's just fussing. Barely allows me to use the restroom, the bastard_**

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.04 PM. Read]  
_ **_Aww, poor you. How will you survive??_ **

_[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.05 PM. Read]  
_ **_I won't. Please, Peter, come save me! :'(_ **

_[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.05 PM. Read]  
_ **_I'm on my way, my damsel!_ **

**_When I have your address_**

_[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, Read]  
_ **_Ew no, I'm not giving my address to strangers, seen too many movies for that_ **

_[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.06 PM. Read]  
_ **_So I'm a stranger to you? :(_ **

In reality, Peter felt a pang of hurt in his chest. But he tried to push it away, remembering Rhodey telling him about Tony's trust issues.

 _[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.06 PM.]  
_ _**You're right, that doesn't sound right. Future friend?** _

Peter swore he could feel the hope in that question through the screen. He grinned.

_[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.06 PM. Read]  
**That sounds better.**_

_**So, how about that visit?** _

_[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.07 PM]_  
_**Rhodey doesn't allow "friends" yet, Steve already asked. But you could sneak in at night when everyone's asleep ;)**_

_**Climb through the window** _

_**Like Spider-Man** _

Peter dropped his phone.

He sat there on his bed, blinking dazedly. Did he just imagine that? He quickly grabbed his phone from the floor, re-reading the text again. And again. And again. It still read the same thing; "Like Spider-Man". Did he know? No, he would've phrased it differently if he knew Peter was Spider-Man. But Iron Man didn't exist in this universe. Or any of the Avengers. And Peter didn't have his powers here. His phone buzzed with new messages, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

 _[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.08 PM]  
_ **_Where'd you go?_ **

**_Did I scare you off?_ **

**_Or did you seriously just ask for permission to sneak into someone's house at midnight_ **

**_Honestly, I could see you do that_ **

**_*Gasp* or are_ you _Spider-Man?! :o_**

Peter decided to speak up again before he seriously worked himself into a heart attack.

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.08 PM]_  
_**Who now?**_

 _[From: Tony "Friggin" Stark, 7.08 PM]  
_ _**WHAT?!** _

_**You don't know Spider-Man?** _

_**Dude, I need to educate you right, pal** _

_**How about some private tutoring in the arts of Marvel's Avengers** _

Even though Peter didn't understand this conversation, he couldn't help but smile cheekily.

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.09 PM]_  
_**Spider-Man's an Avenger?**_

 _[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.09 PM]_  
_**Uh, yeah**_

_**Since space** _

_**Iron Man made him an Avenger** _

_**Now if you're going to tell me that you don't know Iron Man either I will block your number** _

_[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.09 PM]_  
_**No, of course, I know Iron Man!**_

_**He's my alarm clock** _

_**And I have posters** _

_**And PJ's** _

_**And bedspread** _

_**Wow, I'm a nerd** _

_[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.10 PM]_  
**_Hello_?**

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.11 PM]_  
**_Tony_?**

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.12 PM]  
**Did**_ **I _scare you off now?_**

 _[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.12 PM]_  
_**Sorry, Rhodey came in**_

_**Had to pretend I was asleep** _

_**So, Iron Man fan, huh?** _ _**How come you don't know Spider-Man then?** _ _**He's basically his son, buddy** _

_**He's like an Iron Dad** _

_**Wait** _

_**Iron Dad** _

_**And Spider Son** _

_**Hah! That's great** _

Peter's head hurt.

 _[To: Tony "friggin" Stark, 7.13 PM]  
**I think I might take you up on that tutoring offer**_ _**...** _

After what must have been hours of texting, Tony fell silent. With a yawn, Peter realized he must have fallen asleep. He put his own phone away, feeling his eyes grow heavy. Sleep didn't sound like a bad idea...

* * *

The next morning, Peter woke up to sunlight streaming in through the window. He yawned wide until his jaw popped. He didn't open his eyes, content to lay in bed for a little while longer, wrapped in his thick blankets and listening to the birds chirp outside.

He finally opened his eyes when his phone buzzed. Groggily, he reached out a hand, blinking sleepily at the screen. It was a few texts from Tony and one from Steve.

_[From: Tony "friggin" Stark, 10.08 AM]  
**Rise and shine, uneducated person. I shall teach you the ways of Marvel today.**_

_**In other words, swing by, Spider-Man** _

**_And in_ other- _other_** _**words, here's my address:** _

An address followed. Peter smiled and gave a quick response before opening Steve's text.

 _[From: Steve Rogers, 11.30 AM]_  
**Hey, Peter. I don't know if Tony told you yet, but Rhodey's put up 'visiting hours' today. You wanna come over to Tony's?**

Peter said he'd be there before jumping out of bed with new-found energy. He reluctantly changed out of his Iron Man PJ's (they were  _really_ comfy, okay?) and threw on some clothes. He raced down the stairs, following his nose to the not-so-badly-burned-yet smell of eggs he'd grown used to over the years.

"Hey, May!" He greeted when he bounded into the kitchen. May looked up, eyebrows raised.

"You're awfully chipper," she said, a bit of suspicion in her voice. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say these were signs of a crush..."

" _May_!" Peter whined. May just chuckled. "Actually, I'm allowed over at Tony's place today," he explained while grabbing some bread to make toast.

"Aw, he isn't coming over?" May pouted. "I'd like to meet him right about now."

"May, he's _sick_!" Peter said exasperated. "Anyway, Steve's coming too. Maybe some others. Steve said Rhodey put up 'visiting hours, whatever that means. They only have that in hospitals, right? When someone's very sick? Because Tony told me he was feeling a lot better and Rhodey was overreacting. Actually, he called him Rhodey-Bear. That's really cute, they have pet names for each other! Do you think I'll get a pet name too? No wait, that's weird. Cuz I've only known Tony for a couple of days, and Rhodey probably for  _years_ so-" 

May shut him up by stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Very nice. Now shut up and eat," she ordered. Peter happily complied.

* * *

 

Peter took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. He'd used Google Maps and only managed to get lost once. The house itself wasn't very impressive- it was actually smaller than Peter's. But when Peter had asked one day how they were able to afford such a place, it turned out that his parents had managed to make a big break in some scientific experiment. The money had gone to Ben and May after they died. Peter found it a bit strange that Tony didn't live in a big, fancy house. Actually, now that he thought about it he realized that Tony always seemed to wear worn-down clothes and shoes. He decided he'd ask about it later.

A black woman opened the door with a friendly smile. Probably Miss Rhodes.

"Ah, you must be Peter," she greeted him kindly. "They're waiting for you upstairs."

Peter thanked her politely before hanging up his jacket and racing up the stairs. There were a few bedrooms upstairs, one for Miss Rhodes, one for seemingly a young child and another door. He walked towards it, hearing distant voices and laughter. He opened it, revealing another set of stairs. He climbed up, the noises getting louder until he was in the middle of a messy but cozy looking room.

"Did you wash your hands?" Rhodey asked sternly, blocking his way. Laughter sounded from behind him.

"I'm not dying, let him in!" Came Tony's voice from further in the room. 

"Yes, sir." Rhodey opened the door for him, allowing him into the room. Looking around, Peter saw two messy beds, one occupied by Tony and Steve, who seemed to be doing some sort of game. Judging by the grin on Tony's face and the frown on Steve's, Tony was winning. Peter's mouth fell open as he looked around further. It seemed the two boys were sharing the attic. And the entire attic belonged to them. Their stuff was sprawled around everywhere and created a homey atmosphere.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Tony grinned from where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed while Steve frowned at the playboard. Peter nodded numbly. He walked over to the window. Looking out, he could see an open field and a forest behind the house. It was a bright day, and Peter could see the sun reflecting on a lake nearby.

"You live amazing!" Peter exclaimed breathlessly. Rhodey laughed, pride evident in his voice as he said:

"Yeah, the best place in town, I'll tell ya. The field is especially handy for when we have to let out this one." He pointed towards Tony, who smiled a dopey smile.

"It's true," he shrugged. "Also, Steve, I do believe I won. Again."

"I give up," Steve groaned, sprawling out over the bed in defeat. Rhodey laughed unsympathetically.

"I told you not to try and win monopoly from Tony," he smirked.

"Seems like you speak from experience," Steve noted with a slight smirk of his own. Rhodey rolled his eyes.

"He's practically my little brother now, but when he first moved in, he managed to convince me with those stupid puppy dog eyes to try the game with him because no one ever bothered to play with him at home. I learned the hard way that it's impossible to beat him at this stupid game."

Tony just beamed happily. Steve seemed to melt at Tony's utterly happy and proud look. And, Peter wasn't going to lie, Tony did look really cute. Not that he'd say that out loud, though. That'd just be too weird...

"So, when does class start?" Peter asked, remembering their texting from last night. "I'd quite like to get to know Spider-Man."

Tony's face lit up as he jumped from his bed, running over to one of the cupboards.

"What class?" Steve questioned with a confused look on his face.

"We were texting last night-"

"Texting?" Steve interrupted Tony's explanation, desperately trying (and failing) to hide his murder glare sent Peter's way. Tony didn't turn around, completely oblivious to Steve's jealousy.

"Yeah, texting. You know, talking through messages on that funny device they call a phone." Peter could practically  _feel_ Tony's eye roll. "Anyway, I found out he doesn't know Spider-Man. Now, I don't allow people in my friend group without them knowing Spider-Man, so I'm going to properly educate him."

He turned around with a stack of comic books in his arms and a happy grin on his face.

"So, let the class begin,"

* * *

Peter was absolutely  _fascinated_ with what he read. He learned about the Avengers through comics, learned their background and their reasons to become heroes. Even  _his_ story was in it. He was slightly shocked when his uncle's death was illustrated. He fought to hold back tears as his death played out. Ben wasn't alive in this 'alternate universe' either, much to Peter's sorrow. He got through it, however, and eventually, they reached Iron Man.

Peter saw the kidnapping in Afghanistan, the open heart surgery without anesthetic. The waterboarding. The beatings. The yelling, choking and spitting in his face. Even though names weren't mentioned -none of the names were, they were just called by their superhero name-, Peter could imagine Tony in that cave, taking that torture for 3 months. When they got to the building of the Mark I, Peter was more fascinated than he'd ever been. This was his mentor's story, it was all true. Truth no one knew, because Mr. Stark had never told  _anyone_ , not even his closest friends. Yet here it was, illustrated to the last detail.

Peter slightly felt like he was invading Tony's privacy, but he was too fascinated to stop reading. The escape through the desert, the rescue, the conference he'd seen on TV, the process of building Mark II. The first flight and applying titanium alloyed to solve the icing problem. Obediah's betrayal and ultimate death, and Tony's near-death experience. He read it all with fascination, his respect for his mentor growing with every page he turned.

He was slightly disappointed when it ended hours later, closing the comic with a soft  _"wow"_. He turned to Tony, who was sitting next to him. He had vaguely registered Rhodey and Steve going downstairs to help with dinner. He noticed his friend's (can he already call him that?) distant look as his hand massaged his chest. Right on the spot where the arc reactor used to be. 

"Are- are you okay?" Peter asked hesitantly. Tony startled out of his thoughts, brown eyes focusing back on Peter.

"Yeah, always." He responded automatically. "Did you- uh, did you like it?" He asked almost hopeful, motioning towards the comic in his hand. Peter nodded enthusiastically.

"I loved it! Iron Man's definitely my favorite. Who's yours?"

Tony smiled as he carefully put the comics back on a neat stack.

"Spider-Man."

Peter was sure he was short-circuiting. His mentor, his hero, idol, and, dare he say, his _father-figure_ , actually just told him he was his favorite superhero.

"Y-yeah, he's cool, too," he muttered, trying to get over his shock. He didn't have time to absolutely freak out over it right now.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," Tony continued, completely oblivious (as always, it seems) to Peter's internal struggle. "Iron Man is plenty cool, but so is Spider-Man. And I guess I gotta make a choice, right? Though, I bet Captain America would be hot."

He said it so nonchalantly Peter almost choked.

"Right," he muttered. "I bet."

 _"Peter, Tony, dinner!"_ A voice called from downstairs. Tony's face brightened as he grabbed Peter's hand to drag him downstairs.

"Come on, fellow nerd. Dinner is calling."

"Technically, it was miss Rhodes... Okay, you know what? I'll shut up," he cut himself off at Tony's adorable try of a murder glare. Peter shook his head with a chuckle. His life was crazy. He didn't know how to feel about it and he knew that he should fix it, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the good moments, right?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can play basketball and Peter's a protective big bro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small chapter but I wanted to get something up as an apology for my recent absence. I've been working on some one-shots on the side and school is kicking my ass but vacation is in sight and I've got plenty of inspiration. Don't worry, this story is not going to be abandoned!

"So, Peter," Mrs. Rhodes addressed him at the dinner table. "I hear you're new in town?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, just moved here."

"Do you like it so far?"

Peter thought about that. Did he like it here? Sure, he missed his friends like  _crazy_ , and he missed his old room and everything he was used to. He missed being Spider-Man and helping old ladies cross the street (and getting churros in reward). He missed his friends MJ and Ned, and even missed Flash a little bit. Like, a crazy small bit.

But he also had friends here. A group of former heroes and amazing kids invited him into their club on his very first day. Tony and Rhodey were super nice, and he'd spoken to some kids who he didn't recognize from his old world. It was different from his own reality, sure. But this wasn't a bad change, per se. Right?

"Yeah," he smiled. "I think I do."

Mrs. Rhodes smiled back.

"I'm glad to hear that. And don't feel shy to come over sometime, these kids could use some healthy company that isn't each other, for once."

" _Mom,_ " Rhodey hissed, burying his face in his hands. "I told you not to embarrass him. Or us, for that matter."

"I have plenty of friends," Tony defended himself. "I have Bruce and Nat, and I believe Sam wanted to be friends so Sam, too..." he counted off on his fingers.

"But you never bring anyone home," Mrs. Rhodes said with a slight pout. Tony looked down, his hair falling slightly in his eyes.

"Because I live with my best friend," he muttered. "No one just lives with their best friend, right?"

"I would  _love_ to live with my best friend," Peter chimed in helpfully. Tony gave him a hopeful look.

"Really?" He asked a bit disbelieving. "You don't think it's weird?" Peter shook his head immediately.

"I wish I could live with my best friend. That would be so awesome," he said. That seemed to brighten Tony up as he smiled shyly and went back to eating his lasagna, his feet kicking under the table. Peter caught eyes with Mrs. Rhodes and she smiled thankfully. Peter just smiled proudly back and went back to his own food.

* * *

"So, you're on the basketball team?" Peter asked when the four of them were lounging in the bedroom. Tony nodded, not looking up from the game they were currently playing. They didn't have a PlayStation or anything, but they made do with the games they had. It was actually a lot of fun.

"Yeah, joined the team when I went to school last year," Tony answered.

"But... Why?" Peter asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. "I mean, aren't basketball players usually, you know-"

"Tall?" Tony finished for him, finally looking up. But to Peter's relief, he was smiling. "Yeah, I get that a lot. I almost wasn't let on the team." He laughed.

"Yeah, until they saw him actually play," Rhodes butted in. "They didn't know how quick to let him in." He laughed at the memory. "This kid is a natural. He's fast, short, so he gets underestimated, and has a _crazy_ aim."

Tony blushed slightly.

"It's really not that impressive," he mumbled, looking down to hide his red face. Peter laughed.

"It  _sounds_ impressive," he noted. Tony smacked his arm (quite hard, ouch) and burrowed his face in his hands. Steve just hummed softly.

"I've seen him play. He denies it every time but it's really impressive. Besides, it's quite hilarious to watch a tiny person almost fly over the field while the big guys don't even know what's going on." He laughed when Tony groaned.

"Can we please just focus back on the game?" He pleaded. But Rhodey was already pulling out his phone to show Peter a video of last year's game.

Peter watched the easily recognizable Tony fly across the field, throwing the ball as if it were one of his repulsor blasts. He was small but agile and easily avoided all of the bigger guys. It actually looked a lot like he was flying around in his Iron Man suit. 

"Wow," Peter breathed as he saw Tony make the winning shot rather impressively. And very dramatically, but that just suited him.

"Yeah, yeah. We get it," Tony interrupted. "Basketball is awesome. Now, I do believe I'm winning here, so..."

* * *

 

Tony looked visibly upset when Peter and Steve left later that evening. He had the saddest little pout on his face and big puppy eyes and Peter seriously considered calling his aunt to ask if he could just stay the night. But he remembered that Tony was still not entirely 100% and that might not be the best idea.

"Bye Pete, bye Steve..." Tony waved sadly. Steve waved back and left, but Peter stayed behind for a bit. At Tony's confused look, Peter rushed to say what he wanted to before he lost the courage.

"I've just been wondering something. I just wanna know who, um, who those kids were who, well, you know..." He gestured to Tony's fading bruises. Tony's hand went up to touch the still slightly sore spot in a small act of self-consciousness.

"It doesn't matter-"

"Yes, Tony," Peter interrupted the slightly younger teen. "It does. I want to know who they were so I can-"

"What, protect me?" Tony snapped, body stiff and tense in a defensive way. "I don't need your 'protection', Parker. I can manage on my own."

"That's not what I was going to say, Tony," Peter said with a calm that surprised even him. Confusion replaced some of the anger in Tony's eyes but he remained defensive. "I was gonna say I wanted to know so I can  _help_ you. I have no reason to believe you couldn't defend yourself."

Tony gave him a look he couldn't quite place before sighing in defeat.

"The big, German guy was Johann Schmitt. The tall, skinny one was... Justin Hammer." He spat the name out as if it were poison. "His father owns Hammer industries. My father's company is... well,  _was_ always way better. When he died and the company was shut down, Hammer was hoping to rise at the market. When that didn't happen, Hammer senior started cursing Howard's name and everything about him for out-doing him even when he was dead. And that included me. Even though the media died down on the hype that was Tony Stark because I didn't follow my dad's legacy, Hammer never got over his hate for me. So, naturally, Justin hates me."

Peter didn't really know what to say to that. He'd heard Mr. Stark mention Hammer every once in a while with pure hatred and despise, but this was all new information to him. Tony shot him a side glance.

"And of course, Hammer's just stupid. He's in a lower class and can't even properly keep up with that so he targets me, mostly because I don't fight back. It's life, I guess."

"What is," Peter asked. "Getting bullied?"

"The strong target the weak. Hammer's not particularly strong but he's popular. Of course, Schmitt  _is_ strong. And stupid. He, in turn, needs Hammer, so he does pretty much anything for him. Of course, it helps that he's a dick by nature."

Peter put a hand on Tony's shoulder, encouraging him to meet his gaze. Tony met his eyes uncertainly as Peter looked (slightly down) at him earnestly.

"Next time something happens, Tony, you come to me, alright?" Tony's eyes wandered back off to the side again, but Peter tightened the grip he had on his shoulder. "Hey, look at me." He prompted softly, waiting patiently for Tony's hesitant eyes to meet his again. "I'll always be there if you need me, alright? You can come to me with anything, at any time, okay? I promise."

"You, you promise?" Tony asked softly with a vulnerability in his voice which Peter had never heard before. It broke his heart just a little as he smiled softly at his friend.

"I promise. But, only if  _you_ promise  _me_ that you'll come to me, alright? With  _anything_."

Tony nodded immediately. Peter clapped his shoulder the way Mr. Stark had always done to him and gave him a wide grin.

"Good. I'm keeping you to that."

Tony grinned.

"Oh, but you better follow up on  _your_ end of the bargain, Spider-Boy." He teased. Peter grinned wildly.

"You bet. See you Monday at school?"

Tony winked.

"Wouldn't miss it."

That night Peter went to bed with a satisfied feeling in his stomach and a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments keep me living, and feel free to leave some suggestions for coming chapters :)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments, I'd love some feedback!


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